All's Fair
by Lefting
Summary: Arriving at Hogwarts as new charms teacher, Dannielle 'Danni' Prince soon finds that surly Potions Master, Severus Snape, is the least of her worries when ghosts of the past come back searching for vengeance. SS/OC. UNFINISHED
1. Chapter 1

**All's Fair; Chapter One**

_**Summary:**__Arriving at Hogwarts as new charms teacher, Dannielle 'Danni' Prince soon finds that surly Potions Master, Severus Snape, is the least of her worries when ghosts of the past come back searching for vengeance. SS/OC_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I own nothing except the storyline and Danielle Prince._

_**Warning:**__ This chapter rated T_

_**Word Count:**__ 3261_

**1: Charmed**

I am, all things considered, your average witch. At 38 I'm even the average age for women in my country. I'm a couple of inches short of six foot, have boringly brown hair and hazel eyes and have lived in Wales for most of my life. Oh, and about three weeks ago I was offered the position of Charms Mistress at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Initially I turned the offer down; I had heard of Hogwarts, of course, but due to my recluse family and the perfectly adequate teaching facilities much closer to my home, I had never been there. I was slightly (absurdly) proud of that fact. One of my family members; a second cousin-in-law several times removed – Severus Snape – taught there, but I had never met the man and although he had been claimed a war-hero I had no inclination or wish to meet him. So far as I could tell the guy was a snarky git.

But other than that I had no want to teach. I had excelled at charms in my small school and had been recognised for my gift further afield, but still hadn't chosen what I wanted to do with my life. I was a moderate chaser for my local Quidditch team, and while we won most of our games, it was all strictly minor-league stuff. Mostly I worked in the family business of refurbishing and decorating other peoples' houses; the business was flourishing. This meant that as a partner and employee of the firm and living in a tiny, nondescript little cottage, my savings were slowly building up and I had more than enough to settle down – that is, if I could find the right guy to settle down with.

The thing that made my decision for me was that _prat_ of a man I had foolishly enough called my boyfriend for the past three years. I always figured that one day he'd propose and I'd say yes and we'd live happily ever after, upgrading to a slightly larger cottage with enough room for a couple of kids if we ever decided to have them. And, like I said, we'd been together for three years, since my thirty-fifth birthday and I was ready to settle down. Judging by the barely-sixteen year-old little bitch I found him with when I decided to give him a surprise visit, I'm guessing he wasn't so ready. I have never felt so old than when I told that girl her one night stand (I hope only one night, anyway) was old enough to be her father. After sending the girl hastily on her way I promptly broke up with the man and wrote to the Headmistress of Hogwarts, a Ms Minerva McGonagall, to say I would be glad to come for an interview. I daresay the letter was less than polite.

Which is how I found myself, two weeks before the first of September and the start of another school year, Apparating into Hogsmeade for my interview with the Headmistress and her deputy (my aforementioned relative). After asking directions and affirming that I was not a Death Eater in disguise, I made my way up to the castle which had been the battleground where the infamous Lord Voldemort had met his demise over seven years previously. I was met just inside the imposing front doors by a grumpy caretaker who introduced himself as Argus Filch. I followed him through a maze of corridors to a stone gargoyle which, upon seeing us, stood aside. Mr Filch prodded me forward onto the moving staircase and I quickly thanked him before he disappeared from sight.

Once the staircase stopped, I stood before a large wooden door which I rapped gently on. A voice soon bid me enter so I opened the door tentatively and saw a fairly old woman who I recognised from various newspaper cuttings and portraits to be Headmistress McGonagall.

'Miss Prince,' McGonagall welcomed, offering her hand.

I shook it eagerly, then nodded to the rather sour-looking man who was standing agitatedly in the corner of the room. 'Please, call me Danni,' I offered, barely covering a smirk when I saw the sulky man raise a surprised eyebrow.

'Pleased to meet you. I am – as I'm sure you're aware – Minerva McGonagall, and this is the deputy head of the school, Severus Snape.'

When she introduced him I suddenly realised that the nagging feeling in my head had been that of an acquaintance one can't quite remember. He stepped forward and I grasped his hand, grinning familiarly. 'Thought I'd seen you somewhere,' I said cheerfully. 'Two Christmases ago when my cousin and her husband decided to hold that God-awful party and invited everyone who was remotely related… and then some,' I clarified at his questioning look.

'Indeed,' was all he said.

I blinked at the unprovoked resentment in his tone before gathering my wits together and turning back to the Headmistress. 'So, Professor McGonagall, I gather you called me here for an interview?'

'We are all adults here, Danni, Minerva is fine. And yes, that is correct. I have heard, of course, of your aptitude with Charms, and when the previous Professor retired last year, yours was the first name to spring to mind,' she started.

'I had not realised that so many knew of me,' I replied with, I'm ashamed to say, a blush. Talking about myself was not one of my fortes.

'Your work during the war did not go entirely unnoticed,' was what she next said, surprising me.

During the war I had built up an underground system of houses, meeting places and even, in some extreme cases, shops. These places – 'Mole Holes' as they had come to be known – had saved countless people wanted by the Dark Lord. However, as I never claimed the patent for this idea, very few people knew that it was I who had come up with, and carried out, the idea.

I scratched my nose in an attempt to ignore the compliment and McGonagall – sorry, Minerva – continued, 'So, despite your lack of teaching experience, we decided to give you the opportunity to teach here. I have to say, from what little I know about you, I'm rather surprised you even agreed to the interview.'

'Yeah, well, you have my perverted ex-boyfriend to thank for that,' I injected tersely.

Minerva spared me only a questioning glance, then carried on, ignoring my comment. 'So, if you'd like to tell me a little about yourself, as well as previous occupations, opinion of children and whatever else you deem relevant.'

I sat down in the chair offered to me and contemplated for a moment before I started. 'Well, I'm sure you know that my family owns a growing business of which I'm a junior partner and employee. That pretty much covers my entire career, other than my efforts during the war and a small part-time job whilst studying at school. I excelled in both Charms and Potions for my NEWTs and did moderately well in my other chosen subjects. As for my opinion of children – well, I suppose you want me to say I love them and can't wait to have my own, but obviously judging by my age and my less-than-enthusiastic response, you will be able to tell that isn't the case.

'Children are people just the same as adults. A little younger, a little less educated, but still people. When it comes to them in concern to myself, I treat them like any other human being. Thanks to fate and obvious faults of my own, having children of my own hasn't exactly been an option. Although I'm sure if the right guy came along and didn't sleep with some sixteen-year old behind my back I'd be more than happy.' I was rubbing my nose again by the end of my speech. I hadn't really meant to bring my ex-boyfriend into the speech and feared that by doing so I'd ended up ranting mindlessly at my (hopefully) future employers.

'One question, if you don't mind,' Minerva asked after a couple of minutes of studying me. I nodded my assent so she asked, 'Are you coming here merely to escape your-' she coughed '-perverted ex-boyfriend?'

I laughed lightly before answering. 'In a way. I never really wanted to be a designer – internal or external – though I _do_ love playing with colour schemes and such. It wasn't exactly fulfilling, but it more than covered my living cost, which is why initially I wasn't going to try it out. But awkward break-ups often leave the need to move far away for awhile. So I thought that trying out a completely new career track in a completely new place might be just the thing. To help me in consideration to my career and my emotions, you understand.'

Minerva seemed pleased with my reply. 'Very well. Severus and myself will teach you the curriculum for each of the years and the basics of handling a classroom of students in the two weeks before the start of term. For the rest of today, however, feel free to make yourself better acquainted with your quarters and the rest of the school and its grounds.'

I beamed at them, shook Minerva's hand and left the way I had come in. _Professor Prince_, that's what they'd have to call me. I practically choked on my laughter, before retaining a straight face as a ghost appeared before me.

'Miss Danielle Prince, I presume?' he inquired.

'Yes, sir. And you are?'

'Sir Nicolas de Mimsy-Porpington – but just Nick or Sir Nick to you. I'm the Gryffindor house ghost.'

'Pleased to meet you, Sir Nick. You couldn't possibly show me to the Charms Professor's quarters, could you?'

'Ah, certainly,' he floated for a moment, frowning, before leading me through the multitude of corridors. 'You must excuse me,' he apologised, 'Charms was never really my strong point in life, so I tend to avoid it somewhat, even in death.'

'No problem,' I replied cheerfully and he was soon explaining particulars to me about the castle – disappearing doors and suchlike. I listened with fascination. Hogwarts was very famous, but a fairly small school when it came to the population of students. Nevertheless, it certainly seemed to have its secrets. When we arrived at the Charms classrooms Nick led me down a concealed back passage to a portrait of a rather grumpy looking Santa Claus look-a-like. I smiled politely and introduced myself.

'Yeah, yeah, whatever,' he snarled. 'What password do you want?'

I paused a moment, slightly thrown by the question, and clearly irritating the man in the picture. 'Um, 24th November 1991.'

'Do you want the 'um' in there or not?' he groused.

I rolled my eyes at him as he swung forward, muttering to himself about incompetent fools and random dates. I didn't bother informing him that the date I'd stated was the death day of my favourite musician. Muggle or not, Freddie Mercury was a legend. Alright, so maybe it was a bit morbid to use his death day, but it was the first thing that sprang to mind.

'Don't mind him,' Sir Nick said, making me jump in surprise – I had forgotten he was still there. 'It takes a long time for Habberdash to warm to anyone.'

'Oh, OK. Thanks for the directions; I guess I'll see you later?'

I couldn't help but notice the ghost's rather disappointed look as he left. I chewed the inside of my cheek for a moment before turning to my surroundings.

As a professional home designer I had experience with all sorts of different styles, but it was rare to come across such a beautifully furnished room. Opposite the entrance there was a large fireplace which was framed by two huge bookshelves. One was half-full of Charms books, but the other stood empty and I couldn't help but feel slightly sorry for it. On the floor was a magnificent deep blue rug and above the mantelpiece – which was sordidly bare – was a large picture showing the beautiful British countryside. The only other furnishings were a large, plush sofa and a huge armchair that I knew I would spend many a night relaxing in. There was also a small cabinet next to the portrait hole that, when I opened it, was full of various liquors and eight different glasses, of varying shapes and sizes. I grinned and shut it, before venturing to open one of the two doors leading out.

I opened it and was presented with a bedroom containing a wardrobe, four-poster bed and bedside table. Through another open door I could see a small bathroom. I drew my miniaturised bags out of my pocket and chucked them onto the bed, enlarging them to their usual size as I did. I giggled slightly at the creak the bed made as they landed with a bounce. One huge bag for clothing, one huge bag for books and then one smaller bag for other necessities – I wasn't someone who travelled light. I left the room, back into the lounge area and crossed into the room opposite.

The door swung open to reveal a study/kitchenette/dining room. Against one wall there were several worktops, including a sink, a cooker and, to my relief, a mini fridge. Beer just didn't taste right warm and I didn't want to have to go to Hogsmeade every time I wanted a decent bottle. Against the other wall there was a handsome desk which was already supplied with quills, parchment and ink. And then there was the space in the middle. The room was fairly large so the table (which was clearly only ever meant for no more than two, possibly three) stood to one side, but mostly there was empty space. _Fantastic!_ The one thing my cottage had lacked. Practise space.

There was another door leading out of this room and, when I opened it, I saw it led to the classroom I would obviously be taking most of my classes in. However, I looked at the classroom in distaste. Whilst my new private rooms had been meticulously decorated the classroom had not. I drew out my wand and made my changes to the room through narrowed eyes. _There, much better_. I sniggered slightly at what I imagined the Headmistress and my forbidding second cousin-in-law several times removed would have to say about it. Probably nothing constructive. Smirk firmly attached to my face I went to spread my things about my new rooms and to fully claim them as my own.

Several hours later, once I had finished unpacking and was curled comfortably in that tempting armchair with a good book and a good beer, I was rudely interrupted by a shout of indignation coming from my new classroom. Sighing, I stood and made my way into the room.

'Miss Prince –'

'Danni,' I said to no effect to the storming Potions master, who continued right on with his tirade.

'What in Merlin's name have you done to this classroom? Whilst it is acceptable to redesign your own quarters, I doubt if the Headmistress would be pleased with your 'adaptations' to a perfectly acceptable classroom!'

I groaned and rolled my eyes. 'Oh, puh-lease, Severus – may I call you Severus? – that 'perfectly acceptable' classroom you describe was an eyesore that I doubt a bat could bear.'

'No, you may not call me Severus, and, for your information, bats are blind,' he replied through gritted teeth.

'Point,' I replied coolly, returning his gaze. 'Now was there anything you wanted, Severus?'

'Dinner is in two hours in the Great Hall. Minerva asked me to tell you and to give you this.' He handed me a stiff white envelope and stalked out of the room, his robes swirling storm-like around him. I grinned at his back and realised with childish glee that winding him up would soon become my favourite pastime.

I returned to my armchair and flicked through the envelope's contents and soon disregarded it. It addressed three different points; rules for both teachers and students; payment and my timetable for the upcoming year and; finally, a request that I inform Minerva immediately as to which books I wished my students to bring. I ignored the majority of it, only to glance briefly at who I would be teaching, before standing to look at the huge bookshelves before me. I had quickly put all my books into the cases and my fingers ran across their covers as I picked out the books I wished my students to bring.

Two hours of careful decision came and went, and I left my rooms in eager anticipation of the food that was to come. A high metabolism meant a large appetite and I had only eaten a meagre amount at lunch. I found that although the castle was very large and confusing at first glance, it had a very similar layout to one of the castle ruins my brothers and I had used as a playground when we were younger, so I soon found my way to the Great Hall.

'Danielle,' (Oh, how I hated it when people called me that!) 'I believe you made some adaptations to your classroom?' Minerva addressed me reprovingly, but from the twinkle in her eyes I gathered she did not mind too much.

'Yes, ma'am. I hope they can also be referred to as improvements, despite our colleague's blatant distaste,' I replied smoothly, indicating a positively _seething_ Severus.

'I shall give the classroom a quick look-over sometime tomorrow, then,' the elderly lady said. 'But first, introductions. Danni, I would like you to meet the rest of the staff.' Minerva reeled off a list of names that I knew I'd never be able to remember, and I told her as much when she was done. She chuckled and addressed the rest of the staff. 'Ladies, gentlemen, I am pleased to introduce to you the newest addition to our staff, Danielle Prince. I'm sure you all remember your own first days and hope you will help her where possible. Danni?' She looked at me expectantly.

My eyes widened in shock. She wanted me to make a speech? Oh great, thank you so much for the warning. I sent a glare at a smug looking Severus, but soon smiled and addressed my new colleagues. First impressions mean everything.

'Right, well, first I guess I should tell you all that I will not be held responsible for whatever happens to anyone who actually calls me 'Danielle'. It's just plain 'Danni'.' That got a bit of a chuckle which made me feel a little better – maybe. 'I'm completely new to this teaching lark, so any advice would be appreciated. And of course, there's the added bonus of not having been a student here, so I'm going to get as lost as the first years, I'm afraid. As I just told Minerva, I'm rubbish with names so if any of you hear me calling 'oi, you', please don't be offended –'

'Hear, hear!' a fairly large, handsome-ish wizard a couple of years younger than me called, making some of the other teachers grin.

Gulping down my nervousness I raised my glass, 'Well, here's to a new school year.' A collective groan rose up from the teachers, but they clinked their glasses enthusiastically together anyway. I found myself settling easily into this community and conversation soon flowed easily.

And if the constant, unrelenting gaze of the dark Potions Master made me a little uneasy I tried my best not to show it.

* * *

Written: Unkown  
Chances of continuation: nil

Feel free to use this piece of writing for whatever the hell you want, so long as you credit me (either this account or my main one - Calistabelle) and let me know what you do with it.

Much love,  
Cal


	2. Chapter 2

**All's Fair; Chapter Two**

_Summary: Somehow surviving the last battle hasn't changed Severus Snape one bit. Now, seven years later, can the arrival of a new Charms teacher with a gift for smoothing over rough edges break down the walls he's built around his heart? SS/OC._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing except the storyline and Danielle Prince._

_Warning: This chapter rated K+_

_Word Count: 2960_

Waking up in a new place is easy for me. I'm a morning person. So when the sunlight first hits my eyelids, or my alarm clock goes off, or whatever it is that wakes me on that particular occasion, I can wake easily and know almost instantly where I am… so long as I wake up where I fell asleep, that is. But waking up in the large four poster bed that was now mine was still a bit strange. After all, for the past thirty-three years of my life I'd woken up on much smaller and a lot less grand beds that, no matter how expensive the mattress, never felt as good as waking up on this particular day.

I stretched and jumped out of bed, eager to get in my morning jog before breakfast. I changed quickly into my slacks and motif-ed T-shirt and set off to the front doors, waking Habberdash on my way. He swore loudly at me and I swore loudly back and moved on, feeling a tradition in the making. I walked quickly out into the crisp morning air and scanned the grounds, soon settling into a comfortable pace that kept my pulse rate up but didn't exhaust me. After twenty minutes I turned back and made my way to the main entrance, pausing a moment on the steps to catch my breath and, transfiguring a towel out of a nearby rock, I wiped my forehead and walked around in circles to slowly relax.

I stretched, satisfied with my morning work out and turned to head inside. As I stepped into the front hall I bumped into the Potions Master who seemed to have a minor seizure when he saw the slogan on my t-shirt.

'Do you really think, _Danni_, that a T-shirt bearing the words; 'We'll keep our cowshit in the countryside if you keep your bullshit in the city' is really appropriate?'

Was it really my fault that I laughed at the disdain in his tone when he said those words? 'Sorry, Severus, but since there are no impressionable young minds about yet, I'm sure no one will mind too much.'

'I mind.' He was positively glowering at this point.

I shrugged my shoulders and smiled apologetically. 'I won't wear it again, then,' I said easily. It was just a T-shirt. Admittedly it was a very cool T-shirt, but still. 'Now if you don't mind, I'd like to shower and change before breakfast.' I waved cheerily at him as I made my exit. I don't think I'd made a friend in him. Too bad.

Breakfast was an easy affair and I got to learn a few more names – maybe I'd know them all before the start of term. Afterwards I gave Minerva my final decision for the books my new students would need and she came to my new classroom. I was a little apprehensive about her seeing the changes, but when I finally showed her, I was glad I did.

Minerva gasped slightly and I grinned. The room still showed off its wooden panelled floor and stone walls, but I had changed the heavy wooden desks into light plastic ones that could easily be folded and stacked against the wall. The old oak chairs had also been replaced by plastic ones. The layered flooring gave the classroom a very amphitheatre-like look that I had played to my advantage by setting the centre area clear of any furniture with a thick carpet that I had already made fire-proof… just in case.

Minerva took all this in and then finally nodded her approval. It did look a bit odd – the mixture of old and new, but I figured it would be safer.

'I judge from this that you intend to do a lot of practical work?' she inquired.

'Naturally. The best way to learn is by experimentation and I think that would be safer with more movable furniture.'

'Of course. Now I'd like to go over the first year curriculum today, if that is alright by you?'

I naturally agreed and the rest of the morning was spent going over the things necessary for the first year of education. I had thought it would be tiresome, but going over these simple, easy spells was more fun than I expected. Minerva left at lunch time and I had a couple of hours to myself before Severus appeared at my door with his usual look of disgust.

'I have been informed that I must talk to you about the finer points of teaching,' he said in greeting.

'Let me guess, you write the instructions on the board, intimidate your students and spend the rest of the lesson prowling around taking points for simple mistakes?' I guessed. I had had a teacher very similar, although not quite as intimidating as him, as my Transfiguration tutor.

'I do not prowl, Miss Prince,' he snarled at me.

'Of course not. Would you like a beer?' I motioned towards my private rooms, but the potions master declined with a scowl. I shrugged and sat on the only wooden desk remaining in the classroom – mine.

'The majority of students that you will perceive coming through your door will have a complete ineptitude for your subject, and so one of the main problems you will be faced with on the first couple of days will be putting out fires.' It seemed that only then he realised the significance of the plastic furniture. Severus concealed his surprise well, but it didn't take a genius therapist to notice the flash of realisation in his eyes, or the slight raising of his eyebrows. 'You will, hopefully find at least one pupil within each class who can cast a spell without blowing something up. Exploit them. Use them to demonstrate the next task. This should encourage others to follow in their footsteps and listen to what you say. Take points to those worst at blowing things up. Rarely give points. It labels you as weak in the students' eyes.'

I listened to the man in confused amusement. He clearly didn't understand children at all. I had no doubt that his methods of teaching drew the desired results from some students, but for others he would simply terrify them beyond asking for help. And co-operation between student and teacher was key. Even I knew that much.

'When they start practical work, walk around the classroom, do not stay at the edge. This will hopefully improve their aim in fear of hitting you and make the students feel more involved in the teaching process.'

Now that was a golden nugget of information, and I stored it carefully in my mind, along with various other statements I had picked up from the teachers. I wondered whether Severus' students felt more involved when he walked around the classroom, or more scared. I bit my lip to stop myself from smiling too broadly, but it unfortunately did not escape his notice.

'What exactly do you find so amusing, Miss Prince?' he demanded.

'Merely the thought of a class feeling involved in their work when their teacher is scowling at them all the time,' I replied honestly. He considered me for a moment, scowled and continued talking, obviously oblivious to the fact I was talking about _him_, not me.

The rest of the week continued in this way; jog, breakfast, Minerva, lunch, break, Severus, dinner. By the end of the week I was thoroughly enjoying myself, although I didn't quite understand why. I knew all of the teachers by name and had slipped into an easy friendship with the Herbology teacher and head of Gryffindor house, Neville Longbottom. He explained over various meal times that he had started only a year previously, and that teaching got easier as you went a long, especially once you'd learnt the students' names. When I found out that he'd been at the school during the final battle, and when he found out about my underground sanctuaries, we both had dozens of questions to ask each other and conversation never grew thin.

With only a week left before the start of term Minerva and Severus left me to do my own planning of the lessons and I found myself, absurdly, growing slightly lonely without either one of them around. No, strike that, without Severus hanging around. True, he was a sour old git, but when I really got him talking about teaching I got a glimpse of the man behind the sarcastic mask. And that man was utterly bewitching.

One evening, only a couple of days before the arrival of the students I asked Neville about the Potions Master.

'Well,' Neville started, settling down in the sofa in my rooms after I'd poured each of us a glass of wine, 'he's a puzzle to us all and no mistake. I think the only person who really understands him is Harry.' I'd realised early on that Neville was a friend of the famous Harry Potter, though I asked him little about it. To be honest I was entirely uninterested in the 'Boy-Who-Lived'. Sure, I was glad he saved the world and all, but that was as far as it went. 'You know, of course, that Severus was a double agent and saved hundreds of lives with the risks he took. So far as I can tell, he became a death-eater when he was still in school but joined the Light shortly before the death of Harry's parents. He almost died in the final battle, but somehow managed to survive with only a slight limp and couple of scars. Didn't change him at all though. He used to terrify me when he was my teacher.'

I pondered this for a while. It was obvious that no one really knew Severus, and when I asked how the famous Harry Potter had come to know him, Neville merely shrugged. 'Harry doesn't really talk about it. They used to hate each other, but during the final battle something changed. They're not exactly friends now, but they're on speaking terms, which is more than anyone else is with him.'

Conversation soon turned to lighter topics, but my mind lingered a little longer on the recluse teacher. It was the next day that I decided to give Severus a little surprise visit. I'd finished preparing the first, second and third year plans and was ahead with my work so thought maybe I'd go down to the dungeons. They were one part of the school that I had yet to venture into and I was intensely curious about them – and I could also put together an experimental brew that my brother had suggested shortly before my departure. Whilst Claude was terribly inventive, when it came to potion brewing he was simply terrible.

I knocked cautiously on the door I presumed led to the main potions room and was answered by a sharp, 'Who is it?'

'Severus, I was wondering if it was possible for me to borrow one of your work stations for a couple of hours?' I enquired politely.

The Potions Master turned around in a snap and gave me a strange look, followed quickly by a sneer. 'What is it you will be making?'

'A little experiment my brother suggested,' I replied with a grin, seeing his distaste.

He sighed and turned back to his own cauldron. 'Very well. If you wish to use any of my stock, please inform me.'

I screwed up my face up and stuck my tongue out at his back before saying, casually, 'Of course, thank you.'

I opened my potions kit and quickly set about preparing the ingredients. I muttered a quick recovery spell over the cauldron before starting my little experiment, every now and then 'saving' my work. What exactly I expected from the potion I wasn't entirely sure. Claude had said something along the lines of '…cleans cuts up effectively but also smells good; I mean, is it impossible to find a decent-smelling antiseptic?' So specific. I wasn't a Healer, but I knew several different antiseptic potions that could be modified to smell better.

After having made the initial brew I stalled – what exactly counted as smelling nice? I thought about all the things I considered smelling nice – shoe polish, cut grass, hay, the sea when it wasn't infested with seaweed. None of those seemed like particularly good ideas.

'Severus,' I said several minutes later, inspiration eluding me, 'what smells nice?'

He choked for a moment and span around, his face a livelier colour than its usual sallow-ness. I realised that if ever the man was to blush, this was it. 'Smells nice?' he asked – no, demanded.

'Yeah… my brother wants an antiseptic that 'smells nice'. I don't think shoe polish exactly comes under his specifications,' I explained.

'Shoe polish?' The colour had faded from his cheeks by now and Severus raised a single eyebrow in accusation.

'Sure, shoe polish. I don't polish my shoes often, if ever, but you can't say that it doesn't smell nice.'

The corners of his mouth quirked as I said this and he turned from me and went to the many shelves stacked high with possible ingredients. He took down a couple of bottles and passed them to me, before standing back to watch sceptically as I opened them, sniffed them and wrinkled my nose. Individually they smelt disgusting, but then so did the potion. Finding it impossible to keep the grin from my face as I truly started experimenting, I didn't notice that the Potions Master did not turn back to his work.

I slipped some of the first ingredient – some sort of leaf – into the potion and it hissed, turning a disgusting puce-green colour, though the smell seemed to improve slightly. I added a tiny bit more of the leaf and although the potion turned a more agreeable colour, the smell once again worsened. Grabbing a quill I quickly noted this down and added some of the other ingredients, gaining other, varying reactions that did not seem at all encouraging. Realising I was getting nowhere with the first batch, I emptied the cauldron and tipped in one of the bottled samples. Studying my notes I made more cautious additions until I knew once again that I was getting nowhere. Half an hour later and on the fourth of the samples I had taken, I managed to get the amounts just right and the potion even turned a pleasant light blue colour. It had thickened to a cream and I bottled it in an old skin-cream bottle, rather than the glass vials I usually used. The smell was strange, tangy, but very pleasant to the nostrils and I was happy with my result.

I cleared away the rest of my things before I decided to test it, keeping my wand at the ready. I made a small cut on the palm of my hand and gently rubbed in a little of the lotion. Prepared for it to sting, I was surprised when it didn't. I was further surprised when the wound began to heal before my eyes. I grinned – of course! The leafy substance Severus had given me must have been Tremadour. I looked up to see the person of my thoughts watching me carefully.

'Do you often test your potions on yourself?' he asked.

'Nope. But it was only an antiseptic cream and none of the ingredients are poisonous. I trusted that you hadn't given me something with unfortunate side-effects.' This time, when I went over my notes and wrote down the exact recipe I had used, I couldn't help but notice his gaze on me. 'There,' I said finally, 'I'm done.'

'You certainly have a certain… skill when it comes to potions.'

Was that a compliment? A voice in my head wolf whistled and I laughed inwardly. 'Thanks. And thank you for the Tremadour, Clover and, was it… Beostone Powder?'

Again with the quirk of the lips. 'Passable as smelling nice?'

'Passable,' I agreed, a smile appearing on my face. 'Would you like some of the cream?' I asked suddenly, noticing that he appeared to have a dark cut on the palm of his left hand.

'No doubt with the Tremadour one application will be sufficient,' he said, good mood instantly evaporated.

I nodded silently and opened the jar again, scooping some of the cream out with a forefinger. 'Well, give me your hand then,' I said impatiently.

'I am perfectly capable of doing it myself,' he replied in tones that could freeze water. Being human I'm only 75% water, and I glared back at him until he finally stretched forth his hand.

I cupped his hand in mine and, using my other hand, gently massaged the cream into the cut. I felt his hand relax in mine as I applied it and couldn't stop a victorious little smirk cross my features. When I was done, I held his hand a moment longer than necessary, watching as the skin slowly healed over.

'See now, that didn't hurt, did it?' I asked gently.

'Surprisingly, no,' he answered, his voice no longer cold, but back to its usual sneer.

I didn't offer a reply as I let go of his hand and turned back to collect my remaining things. I thanked him again and bid him farewell thinking that, really, if the man would just get a little more colour in his cheeks he could be very attractive. I paused in my thinking there, wondering what he looked like in jeans. Tight jeans. I doubted if there were many who shared my curiosity, but I held no doubt that Severus could clean up very nicely if he ever bothered to clean up. Now _that_ was an idea.

* * *

Written: Unknown  
Chances of continuation: nil

Feel free to use this piece of writing for whatever the hell you want, so long as you credit me (either this account or my main one - Calistabelle) and let me know what you do with it.

Much love,  
Cal


	3. Chapter 3

**All's Fair; Chapter Three**

_Summary: Somehow surviving the last battle hasn't changed Severus Snape one bit. Now, seven years later, can the arrival of a new Charms teacher with a gift for smoothing over rough edges break down the walls he's built around his heart? SS/OC._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing except the storyline and Danielle Prince._

_Warning: This chapter rated M_

_Word Count: 3235_

By the time the first of September rolled around, I was well and truly prepared for the coming year and well and truly terrified of having to teach an actual class of actual people. I spent the entirety of the day fidgeting with just about anything that came within reach and I found myself unable to settle down to read anything. I had gone on a two hour jog around the lake after breakfast and paced the corridors endlessly after lunch. When I explained to Neville later what I'd been doing all day, he laughed and said that he'd spent the majority of this day last year with his head in the toilet. I couldn't decide whether this was encouraging or not.

I was called to the Great Hall along with all the other teachers for a quick debriefing for the new year and became slightly braver as several of my colleagues wished me good luck. When the first of the students started trailing into the hall, however, I felt my bravado slip slightly. Neville, bless him, tried his best to distract me by talking about an old acquaintance of his who was apparently getting married over the Christmas holidays. He seemed to realise that I wasn't taking a word in, however, and soon stopped talking.

Then the doors burst open and I found myself, for the first time in my life, watching the Sorting ceremony. If I had been subjected to that when I was eleven years old I probably would have died on the spot. I silently thanked the heavens my parents had let me go to the local school. Maybe it didn't quite have the same spectacular glamour or such a good line up of teachers, but it was so small having a house system would have been pointless.

Eventually the sixty or so first years had settled down into their new houses and Minerva gave a speech. She welcomed them back and ran over the general rules of where they could and couldn't go, before – horror of horrors – introducing me to the school. Thankfully she only introduced me and didn't make me stand up and give some kind of obscene speech. I smiled rather nervously as every single pair of eyes in the school turned towards me. Then, thankfully, everyone was distracted by the sudden appearance of food. I hastily dug in, shooting a sideways glance at Neville who shot me a thumbs up; I mouthed a thanks back before joining the conversation of the people either side of me.

I stayed at the staff table until all of the students had left the Great Hall after dinner, simply to avoid them. Cowardly, I know, but it seemed that the majority of the other teachers did the same. Minerva said one last 'good luck' and left, followed quickly by everyone else. Or, at least, I thought everyone else. Seeing the last of the flowing cloaks sweep out of the room I allowed myself a moment of desperation. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly and leant forward to bump my forehead gently against the table, giving out a little moan.

'I am sure,' a scathing voice announced from in front of me, 'that your current actions are not going to be entirely beneficial.'

I contemplated this for a moment and raised my head slowly, resting my chin on the table and glaring up at the vaguely amused Potions Master. I finally settled for, 'I know it doesn't help, but it sure as hell makes me feel better.'

'Although I am sure that you consume more alcohol than is really healthy, I was going to ask you to join me for a glass tonight,' Severus said.

I blinked. Well. That was entirely unexpected. I sat up straight and grinned. 'Are you still going to ask me, or not?' I hesitated to ask – how many guesses that the offer no longer stood?

'I believe my previous statement made it clear that you may join me if you wish.'

I jumped up, scraping my chair noisily against the stonework, making Severus wince. I smiled and made my way around the table to join him. 'Wait… a glass of what exactly?'

To my surprise, he smirked. 'Nothing deadly,' he assured me. I raised a single questioning eyebrow in a perfect imitation of him, but he offered no explanation and merely opened the door to allow me through. It probably would have been astute for me at this point to refuse and head back to my rooms, but curiosity killed the cat, and it was certainly killing me.

The journey down to the dungeons didn't, in reality, take long, but time seemed to stretch on interminably due to the awkward silence that had descended upon us. Eventually Severus led me to a small, nondescript statue of a snake-like dragon and muttered a password at it under his breath. It slid into motion and revealed another set of steps heading down. Once again Severus stepped aside to let me through, and although I had been initially flattered by this chivalry, it was starting to get on my nerves. Once I reached the bottom of the stairs the corridor opened up into a well lit room which was obviously the main area of Severus' private rooms.

'Please make yourself comfortable. I must go to the Slytherin dormitories to check whether the students are settling down or not,' he said, waving a hand in the vague direction of a sofa before sweeping back up the stairs. I moved to sit down, but as soon as he was gone I once again felt a wave of unsurpassable curiosity crash over me. It took me mere moments to realise that his rooms were on the same layout as mine. Although the largest room in the complex caught my attention, what I really wanted to see was Severus' bedroom. Most people express themselves the most in areas or things that will be kept private and bedrooms are the most private. I poked my head around the door in the hope that the room would reveal something exciting and unusual… but no. There was nothing personalised about this room at all.

For fear of having my head removed from my body if Severus found me poking around his quarters I quietly shut the door and sat down on the sofa, my mind buzzing with questions. Severus lived in these rooms as though he was living in a hotel. Obviously he must have his own house somewhere else, but since teaching took up so much of the year, surely he would feel more comfortable if he could make these rooms… well… his _own_. There was nothing here at all that might tell a little of whom Severus really was. It was as though at Hogwarts he was no longer a person, he was merely The Potions Master. An object.

'What now?' His smooth tones interrupted my flow of thoughts.

I jumped, not realising he had returned. 'Excuse me?'

'You looked worried.'

'Oh. I was just, um, thinking,' I covered hastily – and badly.

'Thinking,' he repeated in a tone that suggested that 'thinking' was not something I should do on a regular basis, if a simple question threw me so much.

'Right,' was my only answer, trying to recover the situation and failing.

Severus turned quickly away from me but I still saw the smirk that stole across his features before he hid it from me. His slender fingers stretched up to a mounted cabinet and he pulled from it two brandy glasses and a half full bottle. When he turned back to me his face was once again an emotionless mask, his obsidian eyes not revealing a tad of the amusement in them. He set the glasses down on the table in front of the sofa and settled down next to me. I watched the golden coloured liquor flow evenly from the bottle he held and swirl around in the bottom of the glass as if it was in slow motion. I shook my head and the feeling was gone.

'Are you sure you're feeling alright, Ms Prince?' he asked when he saw the movement.

'Hmm,' I murmured. 'Slight headache coming on, I think. That's all.'

He passed me a glass and I received it with a smile that I hoped was at least passable as genuine. Neither of us spoke again for a long minute, but the silence that hung in the air between us was slightly less awkward this time. I raised the glass to my lips and took a tiny sip of the liquid. Then I promptly spat it out again.

'Eurgh!' I squealed in distaste, practically dropping the glass back onto the table. 'That stuff is disgusting!'

He surprised me again then. He chuckled lightly and took a sip from his own glass, eyes closing in what must have been appreciation – though I couldn't understand it. 'It is certainly an… acquired taste,' he said, still smirking over the rim of his glass.

'Well don't mind me if I don't take the time to acquire that particular taste,' I said stuffily, sticking my tongue out and screwing my eyes up like a young child being forced to eat vegetables.

'Not at all. There's a range of other liquors in the cabinet if you want something else,' he offered, ignoring my childishness.

I shook my head. 'After having that I'm sure I can live without,' I assured him. His eyebrows rose ever so slightly and I tried my best not to feel hurt at his inaccurate assumption that I was an alcoholic. Sure I liked the odd beer and had something pretty much everyday, didn't mean I was addicted to the stuff. I felt the urge to stick my tongue out again, but wanted to leave the room with some of my pride still in tact. I stared into the fire for a moment before looking up into his dark gaze.

Under his penetrating surveillance I felt as though he was sending me some kind of subliminal message that I could almost grab hold of – but not quite. I looked back steadily. The silence thickened and although I couldn't understand it, it gave me comfort. I smiled slowly, confidently, allowing the muscles of my mouth pull up one side of my mouth and gradually sliding across my face until I was smiling fully at him. I stretched forward with one hand and took the half full glass from his unresisting fingers and set it down on the table. His eyes – unreadable, emotionless – watched my every movement and blinked slowly at me as I relaxed back against the sofa. He moved towards me until his face was barely centimetres from mine. He paused, checking.

My smile slipped and my eyes closed. My mouth opened very slightly and I breathed out across his lips; but still he didn't move. Even with my eyes shut I could sense he was there right next to me, waiting.

'One night,' he said. So that's what he was waiting for.

I smirked and opened my eyes; slowly, deliberately placing the cool fingers of one hand on his forehead and trailing them down the side of his face, under his chin, down his neck, over his breast bone, over his torso, tickling his ribs, down his waist, onto his thigh and there – there I let my hand rest. 'One night,' I repeated, unblinking; honest. 'No strings attached.'

Once again he raised one eyebrow in a speculative, entirely-Severus manner.

I leant forward, past his face so that my lips rested by his ear. 'I promise,' I breathed. I saw my breath stir his hair and felt as the tremor went through him, my palm feeling very warm over his tensing thigh muscles.

'What about tomorrow when you can't even look at me?' he murmured back, the sneer in his tone even more menacing at such a low volume.

I chuckled darkly, leaning back again to look at him directly in the eyes. 'You underestimate me, Severus.'

There was another moment of silence before his lips descended on mine – finally. The sour taste of the strange liquor remained on his mouth, but it was sweeter now, mixed with his and my own saliva. I licked his lips and smiled under him as he moaned and opened his mouth to me. I explored his mouth, his teeth, his tongue carefully, passionately, wanting to remember every single moment because – as we both knew – it was only tonight. Why we had set ourselves that limit, I'm not sure. But it made things more exciting, dramatic, knowing that after tonight we'd see each other everyday and not mention this ever again – it gave an edge to the sexual tension that scared and aroused me in one smooth stroke.

His arms were on either side of my shoulders, his body pressing mine into the comfort of the sofa – when had we gone horizontal? My addled brain suddenly became unaware of nothing other than him – his touch, his mouth, his tongue, his hands, his _hips_. As I tried to remove the ridiculous cloak of his we ended up rolling off the sofa and smashing the table, the remaining alcohol in his glass spilling and staining our clothing.

'Stupid girl. Do you know how much that cost?' he said, drawing back from me for a moment.

'Do I care?' I questioned him, my eyes rolling at the absurdity of it all.

His nimble fingers were attacking my buttons and his lips lowered to my neck and my eyes rolled for a whole other reason. I felt the need to laugh suddenly well up inside, but choked on it as his oh-so-skilled fingers found their way up and under my bra. I hissed in appreciation, my back arching up in an involuntary movement to get more of him. Slowly each piece of our clothing was discarded and our hands explored each other's bodies, causing an interesting array of noises from both of us. Then, when we were naked, he took me hard and unrelenting against the thinly carpeted floor. I felt a wave of… something… build up inside me and it washed over us as I groaned out his name in one long hiss. I expected him to smirk down at me, but although there was some kind of emotion in his eyes, it wasn't contempt.

His eyes were the darkest that I ever saw them when, with one last thrust, he came to me. His dulcet tones gave me a nickname then that no one had called me before. 'Ella…' Then he collapsed down next to me.

A moment filled with only heavy breathing when I felt laughter well up again, only with nothing to stop me this time it burst forth and the man beside me shot me a look of curiosity, disgust and – could it be? – hurt. 'I've had sex in many strange places,' I explained, 'but never before on top of someone else's broken coffee table.'

'Many strange places?' he asked, cocking an eyebrow at me and rolling onto his side to look at me.

I smiled impishly at him and stretched before standing to start gathering my clothes. I felt his eyes on me the entire time, but neither of us said anything. When I was dressed I turned back to look at him lying proudly naked across the remnants of the table and couldn't help but grin again.

'Enjoying the view?' he asked lazily.

'Infinitely,' I replied in a mocking impersonation of him. I leant down, cupping his face so he looked up at me and laid a light kiss on the corner of his lips.

'Not even the whole night?'

I sniggered and pushed him back onto the floor. 'You wish. I've only ever done a one night stand once before, and staying at his house resulted in a cataclysmic disaster involving one broken nose and several broken ribs.' I paused and watched as his eyebrows once again arced up to form an unspoken question. 'Good night, Severus,' I said calmly, as if I really had spent the time just having drinks with him, and left before the temptation of a repeat performance could gain too much hold and persuade me to stay.

The walk back to my own rooms seemed to take longer than it should have done, but I dawdled; figuratively dragging my feet. My mind rested a long time on one particular word. _Why_. Why had that happened? Why had it not been so entirely unexpected? Why had he decided on seducing me and why had I accepted? But, most resonant of all: why only one night? I had no doubt that I'd be able to carry on around him as normal, I'd had enough practise at pretending over the years. But it seemed strange to me that the stoic Potions Master had let loose like that and let himself have a good time. Or, at least, I presumed he had had a good time, judging by the way his body had responded to me.

Why had I gone ahead with it? The one night stand I had referred to earlier had indeed been an absolute disaster; it had been when I was at University when my long term boyfriend had broken up with me, calling me a frigid bitch because I didn't – wouldn't – have sex with him. So, to get my own back, I fucked one of his friends who had had a crush on me for some time. My ex walked in on us in the morning and a fight had ensued. I had watched on with mild amusement as they beat each other up. Then they turned on me.

The one problem with going to a Muggle university? I couldn't use magic. Two angry boys at the height of physical health bearing down on me and I'd left my wand back in my room. I managed to break one's nose and the other I'm pretty certain will never be able to have children, but between them they landed me in hospital for a week with three broken ribs. I left the university immediately and swore to myself never again – but here I was, walking back to my rooms after jumping the bones of a man I would never see naked again.

True, there was no jealous ex and I hadn't exactly been a virgin this time, so I knew what I was doing, but still. Would this come back and bite me in the arse as well? No, surely not.

We were two consenting adults with no background together – unless you counted the second-cousin-in-law-several-times-removed thing. Which you couldn't really. It wasn't as if he was a blood relative or that we'd ever seen each other outside of Hogwarts or that dreadful Christmas party when we said all of no words to each other. But this thought track brought me promptly back round to the 'why had _he_ done it?' The only reason I could think of was that he needed a good ol' fuck and I was the nearest female who wasn't a student and whom he didn't know. And although that reason seemed good enough it didn't really explain why he'd chosen me, rather than go into town and pick up someone there.

Sighing, I pushed past my disgruntled portrait hole and made my way to my bed, not bothering to change as I collapsed backwards onto the mattress and fell quickly into a deep but troubled sleep.

* * *

Written: Unknown  
Chances of continuation: nil

Feel free to use this piece of writing for whatever the hell you want, so long as you credit me (either this account or my main one - Calistabelle) and let me know what you do with it.

Much love,  
Cal


	4. Chapter 4

**All's Fair; Chapter Four**

_**Summary:**__ Somehow surviving the last battle hasn't changed Severus Snape one bit. Now, seven years later, can the arrival of a new Charms teacher with a gift for smoothing over rough edges break down the walls he's built around his heart? SS/OC._  
_**Disclaimer:**__ I own nothing except the storyline and Danielle Prince._  
_**Warning:**__ This chapter rated K+_  
_**Word Count:**__ 3120_

**4: Black Magic**

The next morning I woke extremely early and wasted no time in getting up. I changed quickly into jog bottoms and another slogan t-shirt (this one proudly declaring that '_Strangers have the best candy_,') and set off as usual for my morning jog. So what if this one lasted a little longer and I ran a little faster than usual? I got back at the same time as I usually did, but didn't bother to catch my breath on the steps. I moved straight up to my rooms and quickly stepped under the flow of hot water pouring from the shower head. I leant my forearms against the wall, resting my forehead against my clenched fists. A sudden, violent wave of nausea hit me and rushed to the toilet, retching dryly. Moments later and the feeling was quickly gone. I shook my head at my nerves and stepped back into the shower.

I changed quickly into a soft lavender silk shirt and loose smart black trousers, wondering silently if they were what a teacher might wear. I had never taken any notice of what my tutors at school had worn, and it was only now that I wished I had. I ran a brush quickly through my brown hair and tossed it into a butterfly clip before applying a quick brush of make up and making my way down to the Great Hall. I saw with some satisfaction that I was one of the first to get there. I sat down in my seat and helped myself to a full English breakfast, hoping that my sickness had been merely the nerves and wouldn't come back to relieve me of this new meal.

I turned to Georgia Sampstead, the current Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher who was sat next to me and we soon settled into easy conversation.

'The first day is easy and hard in equal measures,' she said practically. Georgia was not one who would lie to spare someone's feelings. 'The students are going to be tired from staying up half the night last night, but also overexcited at seeing their friends again. Who do you have first?'

'Hufflepuff and Slytherin first years,' I said.

'Oh, well, you have an easy start, then,' she said calmly. 'First years are terrified the first week, so you shouldn't have too much trouble controlling them. The other years are more demanding, but I'm sure you'll get used to it really quickly – you'll soon know who the troublemakers are, at any rate.'

I grinned at her wry expression and conversation soon turned to books we'd read recently, and we were playfully debating how much of the author was portrayed in their characters when I felt a dark presence enter the room. Looking up I realised that the Hall was now half full, though I hadn't noticed, but the one thing that really drew my attention was the Potions Master sweeping his way down the centre aisle. The words that I had been about to say died on my tongue as his steely gaze met mine. I arched an eyebrow at him and flashed him a mischievous smile before turning away and continuing my conversation. My companion, who had noticed the exchange, merely shot me a questioning glance which I did not deign to respond to.

Some fifteen minutes later, when the Great Hall was full and most of the students present, the mail arrived. A huge flurry of wings and moving bodies as owls delivered letters from worried parents enquiring after the entirely uneventful train journey. I had not expected anything, so when a small brown parcel accompanied by a letter were plonked unceremoniously in front of me by my family's lofty screech owl, I was mildly surprised – and a little pleased.

I tore open the letter first, wondering who would have sent me mail.

_Sis, _- ah, so it was from Claude.

_First day of a new job today for you, then. Good luck, Dan, you're gonna need it! That ex-wanker of yours was apparently caught by the girl's parents. Janie says his face was priceless when he was scolded like a five year old by them! She and the girls all wish you good luck, too. My friends, on the other hand, all want to know if you can get the famous Harry Potter's autograph. I tried telling them he graduated seven years ago, but you know those guys are decades behind the rest of us. _

_Mum's still not sure how to feel about your new job. Although she's had some ripe things to say about your ruined relationship; she reckoned he was going to pop the question soon. All I could say to that was that he certainly popped something. I don't think she quite understood this. Anyway, she said to pass on her hugs and kisses and that she'd write soon, as she's going on tour with some fellow amateur water-colourists. _

_You might enjoy the little something that Janie made for you – it's in the package. It's more pretty then practical, but she guessed that you'd want to personalise your rooms ASAP._

_Your ever-loving little brother,_

_Claude xxx_

_PS How are you doing with that sweet-smelling antiseptic? Any luck yet?_

I smiled to myself, hearing my brother's lilting Welsh accent in my mind as I read the letter silently. Janie, his bouncy blushing bride of five months now, had made such an effort to get her family-in-law to like her she even broke down my mum's defences. Which really was saying something. I put the letter to one side and turned eagerly to the package, weighing it in my hands before I attacked the string holding the paper together. After the initial awkward introductions Janie and I had got on like a house on fire and we both had very similar tastes in home décor.

The brown paper slipped away to reveal what looked very akin to a crystal ball. The light, see-through sphere had a slice chopped away from the bottom of it, and I could see it was supposed to be a paperweight. This brought to my mind fond memories of my late father, who had a shelf on one of the bookcases in his study devoted entirely to paperweights. As my thoughts shifted, the cloudy ball suddenly showed an image. I brought it up to eye height and gazed into it. From the swirling clouds appeared a face, which quickly formed into that of my father; right down to his small, affectionate brown eyes and cropped blonde hair that he had always complained got in his eyes, though he never did anything about it.

With a small smile I put the paperweight aside. Janie had cleverly engineered it to reflect the main object of the holder's thoughts. It was a complex spell that was fairly easy to pull of when you'd practised it a couple of times, but, knowing Janie, she probably hadn't practised before and I felt a little guarded towards the object that could, for all I knew, blow up if I thought of an explosion. Oh, I trusted Janie – I just didn't trust her skill at Charms. Grinning at the memory of our last game of exploding snap with homemade cards that exploded with rather more force than usual, I finished off my breakfast and headed to my classroom to prepare it for the first lesson.

Shortly before the time the lesson was supposed to start, the first few first years poked their heads around the door.

'Come in,' I called from the opposite end of the room.

Absorbed in trying to find the right number of foam boxes I didn't take much notice as the students filed in. As the last stragglers sat themselves down I turned and flung the boxes up into the air. A couple of the students winced or ducked, but I kept the boxes aloft until there was one positioned between each pair of students. I lowered them all with a grin.

'Hi,' I said. All 28 students were now looking at me, but I didn't shift awkwardly as I would have thought I'd have done. I was too amused at the mixed looks of awe, fear and – on one or two student's faces – scorn. 'I'm Professor Prince and will be taking your Charms lessons for at least a year. The spells you'll learn over the next seven years all vary in power and presence, depending on who – or whom – casts them. You will all have different strengths and weaknesses, especially when it comes to specific charms. For now, however, I'm going to see how well you can tackle a Reducio spell.' I paused a moment and once again took in the expressions of the students before me. Although it was clear many were only half listening, the majority seemed entirely enraptured. I allowed myself an imaginary pat on the back before continuing. 'Working in pairs, take it in turns to try and reduce in size the foam box on your desks. Anyone found pointing their wand at another student will be duly punished. Now, give it a go!'

As if I had removed a silencing spell noise blossomed and the students all started saying, shouting or muttering '_Reducio_' at their boxes. Withholding my laughter, and wishing I had a camera, I quickly rushed forward to stop a couple of particularly mobile students from taking someone's eyes out with their wands and then stood back to watch with growing amusement, until someone's box spontaneously combusted. I hastily put out the small fire and checked that the boy and his partner weren't hurt before getting everyone's attention.

'OK, has anyone successfully pulled off the spell?' I asked hopefully, not really expecting a reply. I got one, nonetheless. A small, black haired girl brazenly raised her hand and I smiled. 'Well done. What's your name?'

'Cameron Black,' she drawled out lazily.

Black? I frowned internally – my outward smile not slipping – hadn't the Black line ended? It must be a different Black family I concluded before asking, 'Can I see your box?'

She chucked it at me and it sailed in a graceful arc over the heads of the other students. I caught it with one swift movement and it took me barely a second to see that although the box was smaller, it wasn't due to magic. My smile slipped slightly, but I soon replaced it with an even higher watt one. I turned to the rest of the class, my eyes snagging only momentarily on the lofty expression on Cameron's face. I gave a more in-depth explanation of the Reducio spell as the students took notes. I gave a quick demonstration on a much larger scale, shrinking my chair to the size of a mouse before asking them to repeat the previous exercise. I transformed the chair back to its original dimensions and, as I made my way around the class, was pleased to see that the majority of students were getting much better at the incantation and wand movement, though by the time the bell went no one had yet to complete the task.

'No homework this time and we'll continue working on the spell next lesson,' I said before dismissing the class. 'Oh, and Cameron, would you mind staying back a moment?' I asked as the small Slytherin girl passed my desk. She shot me a look dirtier than playing rugby in the rain, but stopped. She leant against the wall with a sullen, almost petulant look displayed on her face. I took the box she had given me earlier from one of my desk drawers. I placed it on the desk between us, but neither of us looked at it, her eyes never removing from mine. I put one of the unaffected boxes next to it on the desk. 'Could you repeat the spell on this box, please?' I asked.

The girl swiped the box to the floor; she was not angry – the same look of unaffected scorn apparent in the drawn eyebrows and narrowed eyes. Then she stomped hard down on the box and leant over to pick it up, placing it neatly next to the other one.

'I see,' I said calmly. 'Could you show me your wand please, Cameron?'

I had expected several different responses to this; a simple yet defiant 'no' was my favourite, whilst others such as her just walking off or continuing to stare at me unmoving also sprang to mind. Instead she screamed.

'No!' she shouted, her voice reaching a painfully high pitch. 'You're just the same as _them_! No, no!' Then she turned and ran. I watched her leave with a certain trepidation. I knew immediately there was some kind of story there, and I wouldn't hesitate to find out what it was. Cameron seemed very withdrawn, but presented herself to the others as out there and unafraid. But the child I saw was terrified and curled up beneath hundreds of layers of disguise. I frowned as I watched my next class come in. This class was made up of Hufflepuff and Gryffindor third years that all knew each other, which set me at a certain disadvantage, but I was determined to make the best of it. I asked them to pair up with someone of a different house from themselves before asking them to perform a simple Cheering Charm on the other person. Comedy ensued and I found the little figure of Cameron Black and the huge problem she represented pushed to the back of my mind.

The end of the lesson soon rolled around and I had the names and faces of the students likely to give me trouble imprinted in my mind – and which pairings to avoid. I had a twenty minute break like the rest of the school, so I hastily made my way up to the teacher's staff room.

'Anyone mind telling me who Cameron Black is?' I asked upon barrelling into the room.

'Who?' Neville asked from one of the tables, his square glasses slipping to the edge of his nose as he poured over today's edition of the Daily Prophet, cup of black tea in hand.

'A girl in one of my first year classes. She blatantly lied to me and refused to even draw out her wand the entire lesson, let alone attempt magic,' I said. Although I realised the words were fairly accusing, I hoped my tone addressed the curiosity and worry I felt.

'Miss Black,' a sneering tone said from behind me, 'is the result of a union made in hell and has suffered nothing but hatred from her guardians. Now if you'd be so kind as to get out of the doorway, Ms Prince.'

I stood open-mouthed for a second, but soon stepped aside to let the Potions Master pass, too distracted to notice the glare he sent my way when I didn't immediately move. Thoughtfully I made my way to the kettle and poured out a cup of tea for myself and Severus, passing him one. He raised an elegant eyebrow at me and I shrugged. I leant against the side and watched as my colleagues did their various activities, involving several newspapers, several sets of essays and lots of cups of tea.

'Did your first lessons go well?' Severus asked from beside me, making me jump. I had known he was still there, but certainly had not expected him to inquire.

'Oh, um, yes. You're tutoring certainly helped,' I paused, my mind pounding with hundreds of questions I wanted to ask. I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut across me.

'That was, I believe, my intention.'

I was slightly put out about by this remark, but tried to carry on anyway, 'Obviously. Look can you –'

'No,' he interrupted me again in harsh, strict tones. He turned to look directly at me, his obsidian eyes boring into my own hazel ones. 'No,' he repeated, more softly this time. 'Your concern is not unfelt by Minerva and I but we know little more than you do, and Miss Black's foster-mother specifically asked that no questions be asked. If you persist in your direction of enquiries it will only make the situation more difficult for everyone. Particularly the young lady in question.'

'Of course.' My curiosity was, of course, more fired up than ever, but I pushed it to one side. 'Sorry,' I quickly apologised, the look of astonishment that flashed across his face before it was carefully concealed amusing me a moment, before I quickly turned talk back to the subject he had been trying to distract me with. 'So how about you, how did your first lessons go?'

I couldn't help but inelegantly snort tea all over my hands at the look of utter disdain that crossed his face. He muttered something about bumbling idiots and foolish stupidity, but there was a gleam in his eye when he said this that I would have described as 'cheerful' were it not that he seemed incapable of the emotion. I hesitated a moment as I silently pondered whether he was actually enjoying being able to do something he clearly (no matter how profusely he denied it) loved doing – teaching – or if he was simply laughing inwardly at the mess I had made of myself. He opened his mouth to say something I knew would be scathingly accurate, but I held up a single hand.

'Sticks and stones, Severus. Save your breath for someone who will be duly hurt,' I said calmly, moving to the sink to clean my hands and the mug and leave it to drain. His mouth shut when I started speaking and opened again when I was done. He paused, however, thought about it, and shut his mouth again. I blinked in surprise that he'd actually listened to me and felt tempted to laugh. I held it in as I thought it would be rude and headed out of the room as the break drew to an end.

I paused at the door and sent Severus a wink, which he merely raised an eyebrow at. This time I really did laugh, but had already moved away so he probably didn't hear me. The relationship between us was definitely strange, and although he still tried to play the stoic Potions Master feared and dreaded by all, I seemed to be able to draw out some emotion from him. At a guess it had absolutely nothing to do with the previous night – that had merely been a… coincidence, of sorts. I hummed happily and arrived to see my class was already waiting outside for me; I ushered them in and the lesson began.

* * *

Written: Unknown  
Chances of continuation: nil

Feel free to use this piece of writing for whatever the hell you want, so long as you credit me (either this account or my main one - Calistabelle) and let me know what you do with it.

Much love,  
Cal


	5. Chapter 5

**All's Fair; Chapter Five**

_**Summary:**__ Somehow surviving the last battle hasn't changed Severus Snape one bit. Now, seven years later, can the arrival of a new Charms teacher with a gift for smoothing over rough edges break down the walls he's built around his heart? SS/OC._  
_**Disclaimer:**__ I own nothing except the storyline and Danielle Prince._  
_**Warning:**__ This chapter rated K+_  
_**Word Count:**__ 3139_

The rest of the day - in fact, the rest of the week - passed without too much trouble. I found myself immensely enjoying myself and my new job. I was slowly learning my students' names and was amused to see the playful rivalry between the houses. I say playful, but I knew that every now and then there were sparks that, if they had been said at the right time or place, would have ignited a huge fight no doubt eventually shattering the tender bonds made over the seven years since the end of the war. This worried me slightly, but Georgia soon informed me that it had been like that all the five years she had worked here. This concerned me, but also made me feel a little better - no doubt over time the atmosphere would settle and the students would rely entirely on inter-house championships to fight out their little quarrels.

The issue of Cameron Black still bothered me, but by the time her next lesson rolled around on Wednesday she seemed to have acclimatised a little, and although she still didn't draw her wand out, she didn't stomp on the boxes this time when I handed them around. She still scowled darkly at me from her corner but I had gathered from the other teachers - her head of house, Severus, included - that this was her normal behaviour. I quietly whispered to Neville after that discussion if maybe she would be more open if Severus wasn't her head of house. He replied in the negative. Apparently Cameron wasn't the first to come to Hogwarts locked up in her own little world.

As for Severus, I had soon learned that despite his love of his subject and of teaching he was despised and feared equally among the students. I had known, of course, that he may be a little… resented due to his oily appearance and sarcastic attitude, but not that he'd scare the first years (and above) half to death. In fact, when one of my classes had a lesson with me after him I had found them so unusually quiet I had to ask what was wrong.

'We just had a class with Snape, Professor,' one of the bolder ones said, inciting a shudder throughout the class at the Potion Master's name.

Half-thinking they were joking I'd chuckled and replied, 'Professor Snape, Phillip. And he's not so bad.'

The boy had looked at me with disbelief that was echoed in the majority of his classmates' eyes. 'Not for you maybe, you're a teacher. For us, though…' he trailed off, leaving the sentence hanging in the air.

'Everyone has different teaching methods,' I said cheerfully. 'If his is scaring you so stiff you can't even dice up your ingredients properly, well. Who am I to stop him? Now, back to my lesson.' And the period had continued, the students quickly loosing their quiet, gloomy mood as we turned to work on more complicated levitation spells involving water balloon to avoid injury. Funnily enough, that seemed to be one of the spells the students seemed to get the knack of extraordinarily fast. I couldn't help but comment on Severus' terrifying persona when I saw him next.

'You know half the school is scared witless when you're around, don't you?' I asked casually, one lunchtime when I settled myself in the chair opposite him in the staffroom.

'Yes,' he replied briskly before attempting to ignore me.

'I told you I thought it would be hard for the students to relate to you with a constant frown on your face,' I said, reminding him of our first teaching lesson.

'I do not want them to relate to me, I want them to learn.' His eyes were icily cold when he turned them up to gaze darkly in my direction.

I shrugged and smiled, ignoring his furious mood. 'Well, if it works.'

'I'm sure you'll know all about getting the information across, won't you?' he inquired, sarcasm now lacing its way in his voice.

I frowned in confusion. 'What do you mean?'

Severus scowled back before announcing, 'It may have escaped your notice, Ms Prince, but you are fast becoming the school's most popular teacher.'

I choked on the bite of sandwich that I'd taken. 'You what?' I asked, believing myself to have misheard him.

'Popular. Teacher. School's. You,' he repeated slowly as if talking to an idiot.

Half amused and half in denial I said, 'Really? Well then it seems your lessons on how to teach really did pay off.'

'Indeed,' was his only reply before Severus went back to ignoring me.

Conversations with Severus often went like this; with my attempting conversation, him trying to be polite yet tell me to go away before he finally came out with a whole sentence and then back to ignoring me again. I didn't mind too much - it was just who he was, so I didn't try to have more than two 'conversations' with him a day. I wanted to get to know him, true, but not to get on his nerves. At least - not too much.

One thing that did worry me, however, was the fact that I kept throwing up each morning after my daily jog. I knew this was a sign that my blood sugar levels were low, but I couldn't seem to figure out what was behind the cause of it. The immediate answer was, of course, that I was pregnant, but I sincerely doubted that. From the age of fourteen my mother had been meticulous in teaching me how to use contraceptive spells and potions. And I had always been meticulous in the use of them. So with that cause out of the window I was free to feel curious but not wary of the morning sickness.

Lessons with Cameron also got progressively better and one time when she actually pulled out her wand during class when I congratulated her, the semi-smile I got in return was the largest sign of happiness I had ever received from the girl. She was, mostly, just as stoic and moody as her head of house, but I found that he too could be made to smile more often with the right persuasion. And it seemed that one particular form of persuasion was asking him out for drinks one Saturday night, several weeks into the term.

He had initially declined, saying that it was inappropriate and that we had agreed to stay 'just friends'. It took me a while to convince him that going out for drinks was something friends did quite often together and that I had already invited Neville and Georgia in previous weeks. So, eventually, he agreed.

The night itself came faster than I had expected, as I spent most of Saturday marking the essays I had set during the week and hadn't had a chance to mark yet, then watching the new Quidditch teams practise. Watching them gave me a yearning to fly again, but I had not bought my broom with me and one look at the school brooms was more than enough to put me off that idea. At five I went back inside and gathered together my purse and went to meet Severus in the Entrance Hall.

He was there, waiting for me and dressed in his usual sweeping cloak and I couldn't help but snigger behind my hands. Of course he was still dressed in his usual clothes – why on earth would he change for li'l ol' me? He raised a signature eyebrow which made me laugh harder before I led the way out of the doors and grounds and up towards Hogsmeade.

'Remind me why I am indulging you again?' he asked exasperatedly after several minutes of silence as we walked through the quiet streets of the Wizarding town.

I considered his question for a moment before replying. 'Because you've secretly been wanting to have drinks with me since that first night?' I asked.

He growled at the obvious innuendo and opened the door to the small pub, shoving me through. 'One night,' he hissed angrily in my ear as I passed him.

'I'm well aware of that, Severus.' I stopped as an epiphany hit me. 'Are you… ashamed of what we did?' Seeing his emotionless face I pressed on. 'There's nothing wrong with what happened – we're both consenting adults and you are only human.'

He turned to me angrily with a glare and took my wrist, pulling me through the room to a small table hidden away in the corner. 'There is no excuse for the way I took advantage of you and I would appreciate it if you stopped coming up with pathetic excuses and trying to make it up to me.'

I blinked in surprise. He thought I had slept with him out of _pity_? That I was trying to talk to him because I felt sorry for him? 'Oh snap out of it, will you?' I asked harshly. I had never felt pity for the man, least of all now. 'You're not my pity case, you know. I have more pride than that.'

It was his turn to be surprised. 'Then why?'

'I happen to like you,' I said stiffly, my tone indicating the opposite of my words. He raised his eyebrows again and I couldn't help but start giggling at his expression. It wasn't my fault that he'd made me so contradictory.

'One night,' he reminded me. He was obviously desperate not to make it more than that I couldn't help but ask myself – what was he so afraid of?

'One night,' I agreed willingly enough. 'Now, what do you want to drink?'

In the end, the evening wasn't a complete loss. Conversation was pretty much one sided, with Severus only butting in with an odd comment here and there, and I was pleased to notice he kept his sarcastic comments to a minimum. I even managed to make him give his almost-smile a couple of times and by the time we headed back to the castle a comfortable, if tentative, friendship had formed between us – at least, I hoped it had. We bid each other goodbye in the Entrance Hall at about midnight and headed back to our respective rooms. Though it may have been wishful thinking, I thought I saw him give a proper smile, even if it was fairly small and shy. That made a wide grin spread itself happily across my features.

By Monday, however, my good mood had gone. I had thrown up every morning for a month and, to make matters worse, I had missed my period. The evidence was staring me in the face; loud, rude and infinitely scary. I didn't even try to get my mind around the implications, or how it could have possibly happened, but instead headed into town again on Monday after I'd attended to my last lesson. I excused myself from dinner, claiming a migraine and went straight back up to my rooms and did the pregnancy test. I waited. And waited. And waited. Had five minutes always taken this long?

Finally it turned the dreaded red colour and I felt my face drain itself of blood as I fainted clean away on my bathroom floor.

I woke up only a couple of minutes later and, battling the uprising panic, I tried to face the problem sensibly. It wasn't as if I was a prattling teenager with little or no money to my name – I had enough in my bank to comfortably suit both myself and a baby for a year and I was making a packet here at Hogwarts. But I couldn't help thinking whether Minerva would still want me as part of her teaching staff when she finds out I'm going to be an unwed mother, but I broke that thought off immediately. What were we, in the middle ages? Of course she wouldn't chuck me out. To say she wouldn't mind would be totally untrue, of course, but I doubted that she'd judge me for it.

I sat a long time curled up in a ball in the corner of the bathroom, pondering what to do. Who should I tell first – my parents? My employer? The father of my unborn child? I gulped as the fiery image of Severus appeared in my head. I closed my eyes and imagined myself walking up to him heavily pregnant and telling him it was his – his reaction was not pretty and I could see him walking out of my life forever. I didn't want to do anything to damage this tentative bond I had with him – especially since it was painfully obvious that he did not talk much to the other teachers either – and on a hunch declaring my pregnancy would break that friendship beyond repair. I had no doubt that Severus was the father; the numbers would work no other way, though I have to admit I didn't try very hard. Let's see: who would I prefer to be the father of my unborn child; A) perverted ex-boyfriend who slept with a barely-sixteen year old behind my back _or_ B) an intelligent but world-resenting Potions Master.

Eventually I stood and changed quickly before collapsing into bed. I'd tell Severus first. He deserved to know the truth before anyone else. Just before sleep stole away conscious thought an echo of an echo resounded in my head;_ why hadn't the contraceptive spell worked?_

Tuesday morning hit me hard and brilliant through the curtains I'd left open and I realised with a sickening jolt that it was far too late in the morning for me to go for my jog. A now-familiar wave of nausea hit me and I moved to the toilet almost in boredom. Morning sickness was _such_ an annoyance. I hurried down to breakfast and managed to catch the last couple of minutes before hurrying back to my classroom – arriving mere seconds before the students. Many shot me a curious glance at my haggard expression, but as time rolled on my usual cheerfulness took over and by the end of second lesson I had come to terms with my predicament. After all, it was just pregnancy – it wasn't as if I was going to die or anything. Still, I had always imagined myself only getting pregnant after I had married. I guess fate didn't want me to do things the traditional way.

In the staffroom I sat by myself, ignoring everyone else as I tried to wring out enough courage to tell him. He was there, in the corner of the room, sipping his tea and regarding the world with his usual, stoic gaze. Occasionally that gaze fell on me and I saw a spark of warmth in those obsidian depths and my courage would build up. Then he'd turn away again and my will would shatter. I couldn't do this – I couldn't tell him. I must do this!

Round and round in my head courage chased cowardice which chased away courage. It was a never ending, relentless circle and before I knew it, break was over. I shamelessly avoided him at lunch time, hiding away in my own rooms, being brought my meal by a house elf. At dinner I simply immersed myself in conversation with Georgia and my other neighbour and avoided even looking at him. But when I left the hall early and turned at the last moment to snatch a glance at him I saw Severus' eyes were fixed on me and this time there was no warmth. I realised then that whatever friendship I'd had with him was ruined now by my avoidance anyway.

I have no doubt that the next day and the next and the next, leading on indefinitely, would have taken on a similar pattern, were it not for Cameron Black. Third lesson on Wednesdays was the only other lesson I had with Cameron and I always looked for her, as I always looked for the students' whose names I knew. When she had first tried using her magic I had quickly noticed that she was a natural at charms – of any spell at all, I've no doubt and on that Monday when I'd congratulated her on a most excellent hovering charm she gave me the sweetest little curving smile - I almost forgot her normal, sulky, guarded mood.

However, she did not turn up on time for the Wednesday lesson and I couldn't help but wonder where she got to. As that particular lesson I had the students all continuing to practise hovering charms (with many disastrous effects), no one except myself and those close to the door noticed when Cameron entered. Upon seeing her huge red eyes and tear stained skin I immediately pulled her back out of the classroom, excusing myself for a few moments.

'Cameron… what happened?' I asked gently.

'I-It's nothing, professor,' she replied, trying to hold her head up high, but I could see there were new tears gleaming in the corner of her eyes.

I knelt down so that I was on the same eye-level as her and spoke again. 'What lesson did you have last?'

'Potions,' she whispered coarsely.

My eyes narrowed and I stood sharply as my suspicions were confirmed. The girl shrank away from me at my reaction. 'I'm not angry at you, Cameron,' I assured her. 'But promise me one thing,' I paused and waited whilst considering my wording. Cameron tilted her head slightly in curiosity and I continued, 'Next time you want to curl up in the bathrooms and cry, come and see me first, alright?'

'I don't need your pity, Professor.' The harder side of the eleven year old was slowly appearing.

I touched her shoulder, my eyes staring down the corridor in the direction of the dungeons when I muttered, 'Believe me when I say that it isn't pity I feel.'

Cameron blinked and then the tiniest of smiles graced her face. I ushered her back into the classroom and turned to my class, calling for hush.

'I'm afraid an urgent matter has arisen that I must see to immediately. If you could all read and take notes on pages 23-30 for the last ten minutes and-' a groan rose from the class, '-think yourselves lucky as it would have been your homework.' This wasn't exactly the truth, but the essay I had been meaning to set them could be put off for another couple of days. Plus, it cheered the class. 'As soon as the bell goes you may leave. I will take in your notes at the beginning of next lesson, so don't think you can skive.'

Then I turned and left them to their own devices, making my way angrily down to the dungeons and a certain hated Potions professor.

* * *

Written: Unknown  
Chances of continuation: nil

Feel free to use this piece of writing for whatever the hell you want, so long as you credit me (either this account or my main one - Calistabelle) and let me know what you do with it.

Much love,  
Cal


	6. Chapter 6

**All's Fair; Chapter Six**

_**Summary:**__ Somehow surviving the last battle hasn't changed Severus Snape one bit. Now, seven years later, can the arrival of a new Charms teacher with a gift for smoothing over rough edges break down the walls he's built around his heart? SS/OC._  
_**Disclaimer:**__ I own nothing except the storyline and Danielle Prince._  
_**Warning:**__ This chapter rated K+_  
_**Word Count:**__ 3004_

I strode into Severus' classroom and banged the door open with such a force that it slammed against the stone wall, creating a very large booming noise that made all of the occupants of the room – myself excluded – jump.

'Professor Prince,' Severus said coldly, his temper flaring in his eyes, although he kept his body calm. 'To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?'

'Pleasure? Oh, yeah, the pleasure is all yours this time,' I stormed. 'Where the hell do you get off, abusing the students not only of other houses, but your own house as well? It's not hard to tell that you aren't exactly the most liked of the teachers, in fact it's painfully obvious, but I never thought that I'd have one of my students come in fifty minutes late for a lesson because she'd been sobbing away in the toilets.'

'I have never laid a finger upon any of the students,' Severus said in reply, his lip starting to curl into a disdainful sneer.

'Not all abuse is physical, you jerk,' I hissed back.

At my insult Severus seemed to swell up in size, no longer trying to hold back his fury as his anger met mine. 'Jerk? _Jerk_? Do you have any idea at all who you are talking to? I could have you fired on the spot.'

'Severus Snape,' I replied so quietly that in a normal classroom he would not have heard me, but the students were deadly quiet and the stone walls and floor of the room projected the sound well. I continued in tones just as quiet and twice as icy. 'I don't care who you are. You could be Jesus Christ or the Lord God Almighty for all I care, you have no right to reduce a student into such a state of fear and disgrace that they feel it necessary to hide in the toilets for over an hour.' The bell rang, the noise so harsh and loud that the class jumped again. Neither Severus nor myself moved or blinked at the sound. Once the sound faded I said in the same voice, 'Class dismissed.'

The students rose and gathered their things, leaving the room in silence. I knew that by dinner the news would be all over the school and I would most probably lose my job, but the sense of self-righteous indignation still filled every fibre of my being and I clung tightly onto that feeling because I knew that when it disappeared I would be left with nothing but guilt and embarrassment.

'Professor Prince, I suggest you leave my room now before I do decide to fire you,' Severus said as soon as the last student had left.

'Go right ahead. Up until this point I thought I knew exactly who you were. Sarcastic, sardonic and a whole load of other things that gave you a bad name in the eyes of the students, but first and foremost a teacher. A teacher is supposed to be someone you can rely on and trust, who will lead you past mistakes and give you knowledge you would never otherwise have. But you – you! You don't give your knowledge on freely, you force it upon your students until they choke on it, then you punish them for your mistakes.

'When you were teaching me about to handle a class it was magnificent – beautiful. I was eager to accept what you had to tell me and swallowed every word, harvesting them in because I could see that teaching people was something you were passionate about – something you could see yourself doing until the end of the world. And you treated me as an equal. Occasionally you were condescending or sarcastic, but once in a while is all right. I've seen you around the students and I've seen the way my classes are subdued after having a lesson with you. And I saw the tears that were falling from Cameron Black's eyes. Every teacher makes someone scared once in a while, but not the entire class every single lesson.

'I thought I was starting to see who you really were, but I have no idea who you are. I thought I could see the real you underneath your sarcastic mask. The man who is passionate and loving and actually feels something other than resentment. Obviously I was wrong. So feel free to fire me for trying to protect my students' emotional well-being. Feel free to boot me the hell out of here for trying to understand who you really are.' My speech left me exhausted, but I refused to let my tiredness get the better of me so I remained standing, staring defiantly into the black orbs of his eyes and trying to read the restless flow of emotions in them.

'You have the rest of the half term to round up what you are doing with your students and pack up your belongings. I expect you to have left the premises by the end of the half term holiday. A letter containing all the minor details and your payment will be sent to you before the end of the day.' His voice betrayed no emotion and I almost broke then and there. 'Please leave my classroom before I have you detained, Miss Prince.'

I closed my eyes in defeat. I thought of all my lovely students who I'd never see again after a week and a half. I thought of little Cameron Black who would be subjected to another seven years of his lessons and regretted not being there to comfort her. I thought of the man who I had made love to on the broken pieces of a destroyed coffee table. And I thought of the unborn child resting underneath my fingers as they lay across my stomach.

I opened my eyes slowly – so slowly I suppose I could easily have taken centuries. I looked at him with the emotion in my eyes he and Cameron had shunned me for before; pity. Pity that he would have to continue living his miserable little existence hidden behind his sarcastic mask. Pity that he would never be able to understand what love was. And pity that he would miss out on his only child's life. Because I knew that he had no other children and I knew that no one would ever let him get that close ever again. It was my turn to feel contempt as I said, calmly, coolly, completely devoid of any emotion, 'You accused me on Saturday of pitying you. I was telling you the truth then when I said I did not. If I repeated myself now it would be a lie. I pity you, Severus Snape. But, mostly, I pity your unborn child who will have to live his or her life without a father.'

Then I turned, not waiting to see how this news had been received, however dearly I wanted to see his expression. A strange feeling filled my stomach. It was nervous excitement and the thrill of having the last word. Underneath it all was a deadly depression that I knew I would sink into at some point, but until then I was held aloft by the need to get through the day with a smile and the grim satisfaction of having won the battle of fury, despite losing my job.

The rest of lunch passed swiftly as I ate and looked up some references in the library, continuing as if nothing had ever happened. I ignored the questioning gazes of the students and when the next lesson came and someone asked if it was true that I had yelled at Professor Snape I'd replied, somewhat more sharply than I should have, that if they wanted the full manuscript and details they should ask Severus for it. That immediately shut them up and the lesson continued, though my usually constant smile appeared only briefly and infrequently. I could tell the students were worried, but I refused to tell them anything. I did not bow out of dinner, though I did consider it. I felt smug when Severus did not turn up for dinner and when one of the other teachers told me he had some work to attend to.

'Work' my arse. He was _avoiding_ me. And he was going to farther extent than I had yesterday. I saw the entire student population stare at me curiously at some point during the evening meal and wondered what kind of version was being told to those who had not heard of my little outburst until now. I giggled at the kind of morbid little inserts I knew students were capable of adding. I caught Cameron's gaze part way through the meal and I received the shock of my life when she blushed beet-red and gave me a shy little smile. A vindictive part of me rose up; _she'd better be happy! I lost my job for her!_ But I knew it was worth it, so I smiled back and winked at her.

When I retired to my own rooms I was still held buoyant above the foreboding depression that was still far enough on the horizon. I knew I would not yield to it just yet, thank you very much. I reached for a bottle of beer, before stopping and reprimanding myself – baby first. I smiled, a little sadly. How easily this little child had slipped into my way of thinking. How easily being fired had slipped into my way of thinking. Pushing these morose thoughts to the back of my mind I took down one of my favourite books from the shelves and put on some of my favourite music and settled down into my comfy armchair, waiting for the letter that would tell me exactly when I had to leave and how much money they were going to give me for half a term's inexperienced teaching.

Nine pm came and went. Ten pm came and went.

When the clock struck eleven o'clock and no note had arrived to tell me either when I was leaving or – by some miracle – that I was staying, my impatience got the better of me and I stormed down to the dungeons. When I arrived at the statue that guarded the stairs down to Severus' quarters, I paused. I didn't know the password.

Feeling a little ridiculous talking to a stone carving I said, in as polite a tone as possible, 'Excuse me? Could you possibly let me through? I'm not here to steal or destroy anything – I want to talk to the man who lives here.'

The stone shifted and the snake-dragon blinked at me. 'Be my guest,' it said in silky smooth tones, before revealing the passageway. 'I must warn you he's not in the greatest of moods at the moment,' the statue added.

'Nor am I,' I said. I took a step forwards before adding, 'Thanks.'

The statue blinked its acceptance and then moved back. I walked down the stone steps and slid my hands around the cold metal of the doorknob before slowly, gently, easing the door open soundlessly. The sight that greeted me was sorry to see indeed.

Severus Snape was curled up in one corner of the room, pictures scattered around him and the bottle of liquid that had been half full on _that_ night was now empty at his feet. As I moved closer I saw that the pictures were all of the same person – the same woman. She had beautiful red hair and striking green eyes that I remembered from somewhere. The majority of the pictures showed her as a young girl still at Hogwarts, but here and there were photos of her as grown woman, but always with another man – the same man each time. And the man that was with her looked hauntingly like Harry Potter, but without the signature lightning scar across his forehead. Then, finally, there was one half hidden which had the red haired woman and her man and they held between them a beautiful little baby boy with hair as black and messy as his father's and eyes as striking green as his mother's. Severus had been in love with _Lily Potter_?

I looked from the pictures to the empty bottle to his hunched form, the black cloak wrapped tight around his body. It wasn't pity, it was sympathy that welled up deep inside me and made my eyes sting. Then, gazing down at him, I realised with a gut-wrenching feeling that there was _blood_ seeping out through the fingers that covered his face. My heart stopped for a millisecond and moments later I was kneeling down beside him, peeling his hands away from his face. He struggled against me for a moment, but not for long or very hard. I ripped part of my sleeve of and dabbed away at the blood on his forehead and hands. I was relieved to notice that there were no head injuries – that it was his hands that were bleeding and by covering his face with them he had smeared the inky redness over his features.

He opened his eyes blearily and it seemed that he sank even lower when he saw it was me helping him, his body now shaking slightly.

'Sorry – Ella – so sorry,' he sobbed, trying to bury his face once more in his hands, but I refused to release his wrists.

'It's OK, darling, it's OK,' I murmured into his ear. 'Can you stand up for me?' I asked in all seriousness, trying desperately hard not to sound patronising and, I think, failing miserably.

He shook his head at my question so I hooked my arms underneath his shoulders and hoisted him up, using the wall as a prop. He was heavier than I had thought so it was harder than I expected to lead him through into his bedroom. I sat him down on the edge of the bed and although he wobbled dangerously when I let him go, did not fall.

'I need to get you of these clothes, but once I have you can sleep for as long as you like, alright?' I said gently. He nodded dumbly and I tried to still my heart, which was beating far too fast. I did not need a panic attack right now.

Carefully I unbuttoned his cloak and opened it up, letting the top half fall on the bed leaving him in simply shirt and trousers, then started on the shirt. I removed that and folded it carefully, placing it on the set of drawers. I flushed as I undid the fastenings of his trousers, then scolded myself for doing so. I moved over to support his weight again so I could pull his trousers off and then lay him back into the bed, removing his cloak as I did so.

'Sleep now, Sev. I'll take care of you… sleep.' I covered him with the sheets, my words almost unnecessary as his eyes were already closed. I placed a shaking hand on his shoulder for a moment and then withdrew from the room.

Only once I was in the next room, with the door firmly shut, did I let my panic show. Breathing became difficult as I found myself hyperventilating. Sinking to the floor I put my head between my knees and concentrating on just breathing in and out before I tried to come to terms with what I had seen. To think – Severus Snape, in love with Lily Potter! I stood slowly and made my way across the room and carefully collected together the photos, inspecting each individually. When I reached the one that had James and Harry in too I conjured a frame for it and slid the picture inside. I looked at it a long time before setting it on the mantelpiece. Moving in to the next room, where his desk was situated, I extracted an elastic band, snapped it around the pictures and stuck them in my back pocket.

When I finished clearing up the rest of the mess it was almost one o'clock, but I decided Minerva had to be informed. I checked in on Severus to make sure he was still asleep and made my way through the empty corridors to the headmistress' office. She was still awake when I got there and if she was surprised to see me, didn't show it.

'Sorry to intrude,' I said upon my arrival, 'but I must request that Severus has the rest of the week off. He's not feeling well and although he may be up to teaching on Friday, certainly not today.'

'We have no other Potion's Master,' Minerva said, not questioning how I knew Severus was ill, or what was wrong.

I paused a moment before a spark of an idea hit me. Through my time helping people wanted by the Dark Lord, and consequently the Ministry of Magic, I had gained several possessions which were not, legally, passed on. Most I had boxed and hidden somewhere in my underground network, but a couple I kept with me for sentimentality or for the possibility of use. 'I will be perfectly able to take his place for a couple of days,' I said.

'You do have your own classes to see to,' Minerva reminded me.

I put a hand to my neck and slid it under my shirt collar, pulling at one of the chains that resided there. I tugged at it and held the time turner up so she could see exactly what it was. 'No problem,' I said.

Minerva regarded me for a while before nodding slowly. 'I believe that particular time turner is unregistered, but as it's only for two days, I'm sure the ministry won't mind too much. Very well. I will visit Severus tomorrow evening to see how he is.'

Smiling gratefully, if a little nervously, I left to face the next problem; convincing Severus he needed the time off.

* * *

Written: Unknown  
Chances of continuation: nil

Feel free to use this piece of writing for whatever the hell you want, so long as you credit me (either this account or my main one - Calistabelle) and let me know what you do with it.

Much love,  
Cal


	7. Chapter 7

**All's Fair; Chapter Seven**

_**Summary:**__ Somehow surviving the last battle hasn't changed Severus Snape one bit. Now, seven years later, can the arrival of a new Charms teacher with a gift for smoothing over rough edges break down the walls he's built around his heart? SS/OC._  
_**Disclaimer:**__ I own nothing except the storyline and Danielle Prince._  
_**Warning:**__ This chapter rated T_  
_**Word Count:**__ 3197  
__**Beta: **__All-Knowing Alien 2_

**7: Trouble Sleeping**

I didn't go to my rooms, but went back to the dungeons. I wanted to keep an eye on Severus and besides, I was too jumpy to sleep. When I got back and peeked into his bedroom Severus was still fast asleep and although his dream seemed far from pleasant I was loath to wake him. I waited a moment longer and he seemed to calm down so I left and settled down into his living room after choosing a book from his shelves. Either it was a very good book or I fell asleep for a couple of hours, but it did not seem long before the sounds of movement and running water filtered through to my ears. I yawned and stretched, putting the borrowed book down on the repaired coffee table I waited for Severus to emerge.

When he did he looked decidedly bleary, a look of intense pain plastered across his features.

'You've proved you can get up, well done. Now for the love of God get back to bed,' I told him.

He looked at me uncomprehendingly for a few moments before blinking and swaying slightly on his feet. 'What – what are you doing here?' I think he tried to sneer at me, but the effect was ruined by his stutter and the lack of enthusiasm from his facial muscles.

'Taking care of you. Bed! Now!' I ordered.

'I don't need taking care of and kindly stop ordering me around,' he shouted, swaying more prominently now.

'Severus Snape! You are about to fall over. Get back to bed and I'll bring you something for your hangover.'

He was about to answer, but as he opened his mouth his legs gave way beneath him. I rushed forward and caught him before he hit the ground. I moved him over to the sofa and left him for a moment to get some orange juice from the fridge in the other room. When I came back I found him staring apathetically at the picture I had framed and put on the mantelpiece.

'Here Sev, drink this,' I encouraged, giving him the glass.

He took it and drank it slowly, eyes never leaving the picture. 'What did you do to the others?' he asked eventually.

'I have them safe,' I assured him.

'Give them back,' he ordered, turning to look at me.

'No,' I replied.

'Give them to me!' His voice was rising and he had thrust a hand out to take the pictures.

'I can't.'

'Give!' He shouted, rising to his feet. He towered over me and I received his full death glare then. His eyes blazed at me down his nose and the hate and fury sent me reeling.

Nonetheless I held his gaze and shouted back at him. 'She's dead Severus! She was happily married to someone else and had a baby and she died. I don't know the whole story and I don't want to know, but for you to have any kind of hope for the future, you need to stop living in the past!' I paused and looked at him. His eyes could no longer meet mine and he was shaking badly. I took a leap of faith and stepped forward and wrapped my arms around his waist, holding him close to me I leant my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes. 'We've all lost someone. I lost my fiancé, my father and one of my brothers. You lost the woman you love. I still love them and I will never forget them, but they are gone.'

For the second time that night I reached down and pulled at a chain around my neck. But what showed this time was a locket with an engagement ring set in the front. I stepped away from Severus to let him look at it. His slender fingers took it from me and he ran them over the platinum band before snapping it open. I closed my eyes and saw in my mind's eye the picture he saw there. One was of my father smiling and winking at me. The other was of my brother, Michael, and his best friend – my fiancé – Jesup. They had their arms around each other's necks and their heads kept bashing against each other, but their smiles and eyes were bright and gleaming with happy youth. Mike and Jesse, murdered after a party one night by Bellatrix Lestrange aged at 23 and 24 because she was bored.

I opened my eyes and met the ashamed gaze of Severus. But I smiled because that was ten years ago and I'd already wept my heart out over them far too many times. His hand let go and the locket fell back against me. Then I took Severus' hand and lead him back into his room.

'You have two days off to cry and sleep and do whatever you want. This weekend I'm taking you away from here,' I told him.

Severus nodded mutely and I turned to leave him.

'Ella?' he asked just as I stepped out the door.

'Yes?' I said, turning to smile at him.

'Are you really pregnant with my child?'

'Our child, Sev,' I corrected. 'And yes, I am. And I'm keeping it, so if you dare suggest anything else...' I trailed off, leaving the threat open. But there, hidden in the backs of his eyes and the corners of his mouth was a tiny, hidden smile. I grinned full-heartedly at him and walked out, shutting the door quietly behind me.

The rest of the day was hectic as I ran from classroom to classroom, trying to keep up with both my lessons and his. I paused only momentarily at break and lunch time to check on him, but both times he was fast asleep, a pile of empty dishes by his bed signifying that he had, in fact, eaten. I would have loved to fall asleep myself, but didn't think I'd be able to wake up again if I did, so I kept on going. By dinner everyone seemed to know that I'd done the day twice and that Severus wasn't well. To say he was ill wouldn't exactly be the truth, but nor would saying that he was the epitome of health so, when the students asked me what was wrong, I simply told them he wasn't fit to take lessons. If they persisted and asked if it had anything to do with our argument yesterday I gave them a sharp 'no' and ignored anymore questions.

When the evening finally rolled around and Minerva came and went and I resolved to spend that night on Severus' sofa again as he moved from his bedroom to the living room to talk to me as we ate.

'We need to talk,' I said first. We both knew it, but pointing out the obvious calmed my nerves a little.

'Yes,' he said simply. We ate without talking, neither of us wanting to break the silence.

'I suppose,' he said after a long while, 'you want me to propose marriage for the sake of the child?'

'Good heavens, no!' I cried, honestly shocked by his question. I saw something flicker behind his usually expressionless eyes and immediately jumped to save the situation. 'Not that being married to you would be a bad thing,' I blundered like a deer caught in the headlights of a Muggle car. 'But anything done in a relationship merely for the sake of an unborn child is generally a mistake. If I ever do get married I want it to be for me and my partner, not anyone else.'

Severus seemed unsurprised by this and nodded once in acceptance of my words. I could tell that after a full day of sleep he was almost back to his normal, demeaning self. 'What are you going to do?' was his next question.

'Carry on teaching,' was my answer. He glared at me and I winked back. 'Honestly, I don't really know. I only found out on Monday, spent all of Tuesday worrying about how and what to tell everyone and then Wednesday wondering what to do since I was apparently fired.' I sent him a meaningful glance.

'I'm not going to hold true to that particular promise, but I'm not apologising for it either,' he said stubbornly.

'I didn't think so.' I mock-sighed dramatically. 'You knocked me up too and you haven't apologised for that, either.' I saw the look of horror flash across his features and couldn't help but laugh. 'It's OK, I'm teasing.'

'I'm curious though...' he paused, clearly unused to dealing with pregnant women taken to teasing him. 'How did it happen?'

'Well, Sev, when a boy and girl really like each other – ' I was cut off by a furious glance, but it didn't escape my notice, that tiny flash of pleasure in his eyes at being called 'Sev'. 'I don't know,' I finished honestly. 'And don't give me any crap about how I should know at least an 80% protective contraceptive spell by now. As soon as I hit puberty my mum had the most effective drilled into me so I'd perform it now if someone started perving on me while I'm asleep.' This wasn't quite true, but it had become second nature for me to perform the spell in question as soon as a guy kissed me, let alone anything else. With Severus I'd said it as soon as he'd whispered 'one night' in my ear.

'So why didn't it work?' he asked me.

'I don't know. I know I did it right, but maybe some other factor made it go wrong?'

'Like what?'

'I don't know!' I said, throwing my arms up into the air in exasperation. 'I'm throwing ideas around.'

'Well don't.'

My temper snapped at that. 'You're so effing contradictory, Severus! You want to know why I'm pregnant? I'll tell you why, it's because you fucking fucked me on this fucking floor!' I yelled. I knew one or two other expletives that could have fit quite comfortably in the gaps and given my retort a more... experienced air, but I was too tired and annoyed to bother. Besides, moments later my anger evaporated. 'Sorry,' I apologised.

'It's alright,' he said graciously. 'You're pregnant, blame your hormones.'

I gave a bark of laughter. 'Oh, the repeat use of 'fuck' was my hormones, but the anger was all mine.'

He smirked at me before we both turned back to our food.

'You should go and check on my house now, if you're imprisoning me to my rooms,' he said expressionlessly moments later.

'Yes, I am,' I stood and walked around the back of the sofa so I was standing behind him. He half turned his head towards me and I took the opportunity to kiss his forehead softly. I turned quickly and left the room, but not before I caught the look of pleased surprise flash in his eyes.

I knew roughly where the Slytherin common rooms were and as it was the end of dinner I walked with the last few students back to their dormitory. I didn't know quite what to expect from the common room, as it was deep in the bowels of the castle and had no windows, but when I entered I saw that it was very light. Although a lot of the furniture was black the vibrant splashes of emerald green broke it up and brightened the space, whilst the walls were set with lots of candles so the overall effect was a stylishly pleasant mix of light and dark.

'Hey, Prof,' one of the older boys called from the arm of a sofa. 'Is Professor Snape any better?' he asked.

I felt the eyes of everyone in the room turn to me. I had heard some bad things about this house and I knew that Voldemort himself came from here, but looking at these students who seemed genuinely concerned about the welfare of their head of house and had always displayed perfect manners – towards me, at least – I had long since decided I could not judge this proverbial book by its cover. So I told them the truth. Well, bits of it.

'I doubt even if he was dying of plague he'd allow himself more than one day off, but yes, he is feeling better.'

'Was he ill because you poisoned him after your fight yesterday?' a Second year girl questioned, prompted by her friend.

I couldn't help but laugh at that. 'No,' I told them. 'And before you ask, he didn't fire me in the end.'

A universal breath was released and a rattling of coins as money exchanged hands. I felt fairly safe in assuming I still had my job as Charms Teacher at least until our next fight. I was about to bid the students a good night and continue my conversation with the Potions Master when a shrill scream sounded from one of the girls' bedrooms.

'Stay here – all of you,' I ordered the people in the common room before sprinting up the stairs two – three – at a time. I burst into the room, pushing aside the other girls who had already been in the dormitory. I saw one third year girl looking very pale and leaning against a wall as an older girl assisted her, but my eyes were immediately drawn to the bed opposite the door around which the other girls circled. The small, dark haired figure had three huge gashes in her back that were bleeding profusely and in one clutched hand there was a creamy sheet of inked paper. In that moment I realised two things: first, heart-clenchingly, the girl lying face-down and comatose on the bed was Cameron Black. The second was that the ring of girls were not simply trying to get a look at the girl and too afraid to move forward – they were protecting her, stopping anything or anyone coming through to harm – or aid – Cameron.

I went up to one of the 'protectors' to ask her and the others to move and felt a tremor run up my spine when their eyes did not move. These were not girls working to protect a friend – this was a spell and the implications were terrible.

'Shit,' I murmured under my breath before turning to the other couple of – unaffected – girls in the room. 'You, Elise,' I said to the eldest girl there. 'Take the others down to the common room. Send someone to fetch the Headmistress and ask one of the paintings to inform Professor Snape. When they arrive, tell them to come up here but not to interfere with whatever action I have chosen to take unless absolutely necessary.' I looked at the third year who had calmed down a little. 'Jemima?' I asked her quietly. 'I want you to go to the Hospital Wing for a quick check-up, but can you first tell me – were the other girls like this when you came in?'

The girl, Jemima, shook her head and looked at one girl in particular in the ring. The girl she looked at I recognised to be one of her friends. 'We heard muffled cries coming from here so we ran in. Cameron was like that, but thrashing all over the place and some of the girls ran forward to help and then just stopped and then Mel ran forward and they all went like that and I screamed.' She was talking quickly and nervously and she couldn't look at the circle again. I nodded to the girl helping her and to Elise and they all left the room to do as I'd said.

I turned back to the ring and waved my hand in front of one girl's face. She didn't blink, she didn't move –her pupils didn't even expand or contract. So maybe it was a stasis spell. I moved to step between the gaps, but immediately the girls reached forward, grabbing me and bodily throwing me backwards. I caught myself before I fell and saw that the girls had stepped back into their original positions. Bringing out my wand I raised it to one girl and when she didn't react I put her in a full body bind. Well, if I just had to do that fourteen more times, then that was fine, if a bit time-consuming and I was acutely aware that time was not something I had in excess as Cameron could very well be bleeding to death as I watched. I raised my wand again, but before I could place the spell on the next girl, she shot a spell at me.

I threw up a shield charm before the magic hit me and from the imprint it left I could tell that the girl had thrown at me the same spell that I had already used. That probably meant that 'they' could use the simple protective spell as well, now. I thanked my lucky stars I had not used 'Protego'. That spell protected you from almost all magic and was easy enough to conjure. Deciding to test out my theory I tried to disarm the girl. Sure enough she blocked it and tried to paralyse me again. I blocked with the same protective spell. Despite myself I felt a respect for the spell caster, to create a spell this complicated and adaptable required an amazing amount of skill, pure talent and willingness to work hard to get what you wanted. But how to overcome it?

Then I had a brainwave – the 'protectors' didn't react until provoked. I stepped back so I could hit all of them at once and gradually built up the energy I needed. Then, at once, I sent a tidal wave of a stun spell at all of them at once. The simple shield spell stood no chance and the girls fell like dominoes as the spell swamped them. A brief wave of concern struck me, but this was pushed aside as Cameron, who had been lying immobile as a corpse until now, suddenly began tossing and turning and moaning. I made to run to her side, but as I broke into the area that had previously been guarded a mental barrier hit me like I had ran into a brick wall.

I jumped back before the mental barrier could attack me and turn me into one of its automatons. Preparing myself I shut my eyes and stepped once more into the threshold. At once I had a splitting headache, but I kept this alien mind out of mine and forged forward, my eyes still shut as I concentrated solely on getting to Cameron. Inching across the floor was like diving deep into the sea, the pressure to give in pressing in on all sides. In the back of my mind I heard someone start screaming and then, moments later, it was joined in spine-tingling, terrifying harmony as someone else started screaming too. At some point I realised it was Cameron and myself who were crying out, but the thought was vague and inconsequential as I turned all my efforts into staying inside my own mind.

* * *

Written: Unknown  
Chances of continuation: nil

Feel free to use this piece of writing for whatever the hell you want, so long as you credit me (either this account or my main one - Calistabelle) and let me know what you do with it.

Much love,  
Cal


	8. Chapter 8

**All's Fair; Chapter Eight**

_**Summary:**__Arriving at Hogwarts as new charms teacher, Dannielle 'Danni' Prince soon finds that surly Potions Master, Severus Snape, is the least of her worries when ghosts of the past come back searching for vengeance. SS/OC_  
_**Disclaimer:**__ I own nothing except the storyline and Danielle Prince._  
_**Warning:**__ This chapter rated T_  
_**Word Count:**__ 3722  
__**Beta:**__ All-Knowing Alien 2_

_**8: God's Rays**_

I could feel my defences crumbling as I took another, tiny step forward. I couldn't do this, I couldn't! I tried to get closer but my legs wouldn't move – couldn't move. I stretched my hand forwards to search this darkness – why was it so dark? I fingers found something smooth and broken and sticky and in an instant the spell was broken. The pressure on my mind lifted and I wondered for a dizzy moment if I would get Hives, like a deep sea diver resurfacing too quickly.

My eyes sprang open and I quickly withdrew my hand from where it had landed on one of the huge gashes in Cameron's back. The girl herself was drenched in blood and sweat and was clearly exhausted, but her brown eyes were still open and flickering all over the place. They rested momentarily on me and I thought I saw gratitude before they flicked to the doorway. Following her gaze I saw Minerva and Severus standing just inside the doorway, not daring to come any closer.

'It's OK,' I said, my voice very hoarse. 'You can come in now. The spell's gone.' I rubbed a hand over my eyes – I felt so tired!

Minerva was the first to move and she went to the girls who had been used as – what? Protectors? Guards? Jailors?

Then Severus was by the bed. 'Can you walk?' he asked.

I nodded, stood and the world swayed dangerously beneath me. Severus caught me to his side in a movement that at any other time would be described as romantic, now it was just practicality.

'Relax, Cameron. You need to stay awake, but try and stay relaxed,' I heard Severus say quietly to the girl.

Then, clasping me to his side and levitating the girl before us Severus headed out of the dormitory and down into the common room. The students greeted us in silence; curiosity, fear and weariness holding their tongues and taming them into wordless obedience. I offered them a small, tired smile which only some of them returned, and even then it was half-heartedly.

We made quick progress to the Hospital Wing, but with Cameron slowly bleeding to death in front of us it seemed to take forever and a day. When we did arrive Poppy Pomfrey was ready and waiting for us. Severus gently lowered Cameron onto a waiting bed and led me to another. I sat down heavily and watched as the woman fussed over the eleven year old. As she tried to take the letter from Cameron's hand she started screaming again. Instantly I flew across the room to her side, despite Poppy's disapproval and the frown that flicked across Severus' face.

'Cameron?' I asked gently. 'Do you trust me?'

Cameron didn't say anything, but nodded mutely after only a moment's hesitation.

'If I promise not to read it, or let anyone else read it, will you give me the letter?'

There was a long, pregnant pause and I could tell, even though they were behind me, that Severus and Poppy shared a furtive glance. Finally Cameron stretched forward and let the crumpled piece of paper fall into my hands,

'Thank you Cameron,' I said. I leant towards her and pressed a light kiss on her forehead. She smiled briefly at me and then Poppy fluttered forward so she could continue the healing process.

I turned and walked back to the bed and sat on it, this time not quite so heavily, as I had regained some of my energy.

'Well done,' Severus said to me unexpectedly.

I blinked in surprise and looked up at him as he stood in front of me. 'For what?'

'Back in the dormitories. You managed to get through to her,' he reminded me.

'Oh. I suppose you want a full recollection and written statement from me?' I said teasingly. Absent-mindedly I smoothed out the thick, creamy paper in my hands and folded it neatly.

Severus ignored my comment. 'I didn't know you could do Occlumency?' he said – at the same time asking to find out more.

'Occlumency, Leglimency and even, if I'm feeling especially talented, Telepathy,' I replied wryly, wondering how he'd take this. There were very few wizards and witches who could perform Telepathy; it was something that you were born with… and even then it required a lot of patience and practise. I had inherited it from my father, along with my older – and now deceased – brother, Michael.

'Telepathy?' he asked in shock.

Like changing from one pair of shoes to another I switched from one way of thinking to another. Now I was viewing the room through my mind, rather than my eyes. I leant my mind towards his specifically and whispered to him without uttering a single noise, _You better believe it_.

When I went into this state of mind I did not disregard my other senses, they were still _there_, they just meant less as they were overshadowed by a greater sense – that of intelligence. Therefore, when my eyes fluttered due to my exhaustion I was aware of it and immediately snapped back into the usual way of thinking. To lose consciousness in that state of utter awareness sent people over the edge into madness. It didn't always, but I didn't fancy taking my chances with insanity just yet.

'How long is it since you've slept – properly?' Severus asked me sternly.

I tried to think – today was Thursday, or possibly Friday by now, I had done today twice, hadn't slept at all Wednesday because I was worried about Severus and getting fired, but I suppose I slept well enough on Tuesday so that was about three days. At least, that's what I told him.

'Three days,' he drawled. 'And you thought it was a smart idea to plunge head first into a mental defence as strong as Cameron's?'

Despite my tiredness I rose up to meet his accusation. 'Smart idea?' I asked him incredulously, 'to risk my well being to save that of sixteen under-age girls? Tell me, wouldn't you have done the same?'

There was movement in the rest of the ward as Minerva and the other students arrived, but I barely noticed it and Severus seemed equally oblivious – if not more so.

'Yes, but then I'm not a pregnant slut, am I?' he hissed at me.

At his words my heart froze. I stood slowly and although I was still several inches shorter than him I looked him evenly in the eyes. For short periods of time I felt like I could love this man – that I could overlook his flaws and accept him with open arms. But after saying that I felt my heart locking him out forever. What had I done to incur his wrath? Saved a couple of girls.

'Well, sir, if that is your opinion of me we have nothing more to say to each other,' I said icily. 'Good evening Mr Snape.' I turned smartly away from him and fairly strutted out of the room.

'Danielle,' he called sharply, but I ignored him – I would not respond to my formal name.

I wished to storm all the way to my rooms, but I was too tired to keep up that kind of an energetic walk. So, as soon as I was well clear of the Hospital Wing I slowed down, my shoulders slumped and I slouched the rest of the way to my rooms. Glancing at my watch I saw it was barely 10 o'clock. Good. I could get a good night's sleep before getting back to work tomorrow. As soon as my head hit the pillow I was asleep – worries be damned.

The next day came and went with surprising speed. Severus tried to talk to me on various occasions and when he did, I either completely blanked him or answered in rudely short sentences – I had, after all, learnt from a master of blocking people out. I kept Cameron's letter unread in my pocket and meant to give it to her that day, but when I went to visit her after dinner she was fast asleep.

'Charmed sleep,' I remarked when Poppy took me to her.

'It will help with the recovery procedure. I'll probably only wake her Tuesday of next week, Monday at the earliest,' she replied.

I nodded slightly and kept the letter in my pocket. Perhaps I should have left it on the bedside table, but I did not trust that someone wouldn't take it and read it.

'Forgive me for asking,' Poppy said, interrupting my flow of thoughts, 'but something Severus said last night drew my attention…' she paused, uncertain of how I would react. I already knew what she wanted to ask. 'Is it true that you're pregnant?' she asked finally.

'Yes,' I answered simply. She opened her mouth to ask more, but I cut her off. 'It's early stages yet – it's only been a month and a half and, yes, Severus is the father.'

'For certain?' she asked carefully.

I gave her one long look that told her exactly what I thought of her questioning me. She smiled sympathetically and I walked out of the ward, dearly longing for the next week to be over with so I could disappear home for the half-term holiday. Why did the first term have to be so long? When had my opinion changed? For at least the first month I had adored my new job and wanted the term to go on and on endlessly. No room for that fool anymore.

Unfortunately on my way back to my room I bumped into Severus. I tried to side step and carry on walking, but he refused to let me past.

'Not until we talk,' he said without any prompting.

I glared up at him. 'I should think that you've said quite enough,' I replied scathingly.

'Surely you know that something said in anger is not to be trusted?' he cried in exasperation.

'Do I?' I questioned him stoically.

'You can't cut me out of your life.'

'I promised you one night, no strings attached and by Merlin I will see to it that that is all it was,' I swore.

He looked at me, astounded. 'But I don't want 'one night, no strings attached' anymore,' he whispered. 'I want to get to know you and have this baby with you and give it the best life I possibly can.' He was looking decidedly tortured as he continued. 'I had a shitty childhood and my parents were about the worst sort of family I could have asked for, so I never wanted a family of my own. But now, looking at you and knowing that you're carrying my baby…'

He stumbled then and couldn't find the right words again. I could feel my insides doing something wobbly and felt the first sob wrack through my body. Impulsively I stepped against him and his arms automatically slipped around me, but I caught a hold of myself and struggled against his grip.

'I can't Sev, I can't,' I sobbed, turning my face away from him as his arms fell back to his sides. 'I'm shit scared and I can't – I just can't…' I couldn't find any words anymore. All that came babbling out of my mouth was _can't, can't, can't, can't _again and again, the mantra that was coiling around my neck and slowly choking me – or was that my tears? I pushed past him frantically and this time he let me go, standing in stunned silence. Why did this, _this_ hurt so much? More than seeing him the morning after, more than finding out I was pregnant, more than the way I had finally told him. Before I turned the corner I couldn't help but glance back and through my swirling, glassy vision, I saw his eyes pleading with me to stay – to let him comfort me. But I didn't. I couldn't. I made my way as quickly as I could back to my room, tripping over my own feet on numerous occasions, but not really caring or even noticing.

When I got to my rooms I changed quickly into my pyjamas and curled up in the middle of my big, comfy, empty bed and cried myself to sleep over a carton of orange juice, because I couldn't have anything stronger.

I woke early that Saturday, but didn't go for my usual jog. Instead I strolled down towards the lake and stood on one of the shores, watching the wind ripple across the surface. The day was grey and overcast, reflecting my feelings. I picked up a stone from beneath my feet and skimmed it across the water's surface. I waited a long time to see if Severus would see me and come down and we'd talk things over and work something out. But he didn't come and it started raining, so I headed back indoors.

As I went back in I was greeted by a couple of Ravenclaw students who said a cheerful good morning and walked with me to the Great Hall. I felt myself drawn into their conversation and by the time I left them for the high table my morose mood had all but left me. Looking along the table I saw that Severus wasn't here yet, which brought a flickering grimace to my face – I wasn't looking forward to my next conversation with him.

I finished my breakfast with lazy slowness and – despite my misconceptions – decided to brave the school brooms and go for a fly. I knew it would irritate me that the brooms were so old, but beggars can't be choosers so I headed off towards the Quidditch pitch. On my way I ran into Sir Nick – quite literally. As I apologised and shivered Nick gave me some bad news.

'The headmistress and her deputy would like to talk to you in her office,' he said, cheerfully enough.

'Oh.' I wouldn't have been so worried if it weren't for the 'and her deputy'. 'Thanks Sir Nick,' I said, for his sake, before turning around and going in the opposite direction.

I was eager to get the meeting over and done with so I travelled as quickly as possible and didn't hesitate as I had the first time I had been faced with the heavy wooden door. Knocking smartly I entered to see not only Minerva and Severus, but also Poppy. Immediately my thoughts turned to Cameron – was she alright? Judging by their sombre expressions alone I'd have said no, but we hadn't met in the Hospital Wing – surely that was a good sign?

'Minerva, Poppy… Severus,' I greeted each of them.

'Danni,' Minerva started. 'We've called you here to ask you for a favour.' She paused so I inclined my head, indicating she should continue. 'For whatever reason Cameron Black seems to trust you. If you could try and get her to talk to you we would greatly appreciate it. Poppy?'

'Ah, yes. We have reason to believe that Miss Black is being abused by her guardians,' Poppy took over.

'Her guardians?' I questioned. I was very aware of Severus' inspection of me and was trying my best to ignore him.

Nevertheless it was he who answered my question after a sidelong glance at Minerva. 'Cameron Black is the illegitimate child of a known criminal. Although her father is an unknown, her mother, shortly before her death, placed her in guardianship of a couple who are not exactly law-abiding.'

I nodded slowly and scowled. 'Why can't you just take her from the couple then?' I asked.

There was another considering pause and sideways glance. 'We've tried,' Minerva said. 'But there is no hard evidence against the couple, despite the Ministry and our suspicions.'

I nodded again. Basically they wanted me to get a report from Cameron for evidence of her abuse. It sounded simple enough, but I knew it wouldn't be. Why would Cameron tell me, her Charms teacher, about something she probably didn't want to think, let alone talk, about? The frown stayed firmly sat on my forehead. Something here – despite their explanation – didn't make sense. Oh sure, what they had said _did_ make sense, but it was like looking at a Jigsaw puzzle with only the outside pieces filled in – there was a lot they weren't telling me.

'Would you like to go now to her?' Poppy asked me.

'Now?' My eyes grew wide. 'But I thought you said she wouldn't be recovered enough to rouse until at least Monday?'

'I know,' Poppy said significantly.

My mouth formed an 'o' of realisation. That was what had confirmed their suspicions. If a person was given certain potions and charms drunk and said at exactly the right times they would heal extraordinarily fast. It was extremely difficult to pull off and had been made illegal a good thirty years ago due to certain dodgy potion ingredients and dark magic needed. I had studied it at NEWT level and had found it fascinating. But for it to be actually used when there was such a high chance of it going wrong!

'The Crepuscular Procedure°?' I asked. The expressions on their faces and the tense little nod I got from Poppy confirmed this.

Poppy made to leave the room so I turned to open the door, but Minerva stopped me.

'One moment please,' she said. 'Am I right in understanding that you,' she addressed me, 'and Severus have had a brief affair?'

Brief? Oh, does half an hour count as brief? I thought sarcastically.

Minerva was obviously trying to remain unbiased, but it wasn't hard to notice the disapproval she felt. We both simply nodded. 'I'm only going to ask that you keep your private lives and jobs separate,' she requested.

'I'm afraid that in seven months time I will be asking for maternity leave,' I apologised. Minerva frowned and waved the three of us from her office without saying anything else.

As soon as Severus, Poppy and myself were well out of hearing distance of the stone gargoyle guarding Minerva's office, I groaned and rolled my eyes. 'If that's what she's like, what's my mother going to say?' I moaned.

I felt the weight of a sympathetic hand on my shoulder before Severus turned away from us with a great billowing of his cloak.

'Dear me,' Poppy said, 'what have you done to the poor man?'

'What?' I replied, rather incoherently.

'He cares greatly for you, can't you tell?'

I snorted. 'Yeah, I can tell how much he cares about me, given that every time we talk to each other we end up insulting each other.'

'Yes, but he doesn't even bother talking to anyone else unless he absolutely needs to,' she pointed out.

I opened my mouth to argue, but stopped. There was some gravity in her words. And the last two times, at least, it had been Severus who had really started the conversation. And, really, the only times the insults had really hurt me was after I had told him I was pregnant with his child. Had his knowing somehow changed how I felt about him?

As we stepped into the Hospital Wing all thoughts about mine and Severus' feelings were pushed from my head. For Cameron was sitting up in bed, as happy as could be – for her, anyway – catching up on the work she had missed yesterday.

'Hello Cameron,' I called to her.

She looked up immediately and my heart warmed at the ways her eyes lit up and a small, shy smile tugged at her lips.

'Hi, Professor,' she said quietly.

'I hear you're feeling better?' I asked, smiling and taking the seat beside her bed. 'You certainly look better.'

'Yes, I am. And… thank you. For saving me.'

I heard Poppy draw the curtains around us and I pulled Cameron's letter from my pocket. 'Here, this is yours,' I said, giving it to her. She took it silently and slid it between the pages of one of her school books without looking at it.

'Did you read it?' she asked me.

'No.'

'Did you want to?'

'Yes.' I saw no point in lying to her.

Cameron looked at me for a long moment and then seemed to accept the answer I'd given her. 'Thanks,' she said simply.

'They want me to talk to you,' I said.

'About what?' Cameron said, not even asking who 'they' were. Was she truly as ignorant as she pretended to be of the Headmistress' attempts to have her removed from her guardians' care?

'The Headmistress seems to think you're being abused by you guardians.'

At my words the girl turned very, very pale. I leant forward to take her hand, but she snatched it away from me. 'Do you believe her?' she asked in a harsh whisper.

'Cameron, the school won't even tell me who your guardians are – who am I to judge?' I assured her.

She relaxed a bit at this and let me take her hand, but I could see in her eyes that the slightest wrong word at this point would send her running for the hills. Maybe the direct approach was not the best idea, so I changed my track completely.

'How are you doing with your other subjects so far?' I asked at random.

Cameron blushed and muttered the 'OK' of someone who is doing far better than their friends.

I grinned at her. 'Not just excelling at Charms, then?' I teased her lightly. 'What about the holidays?' I persisted, when she refused to give me a reply. 'Doing anything exciting?'

At this Cameron grinned. 'What, with my abusive guardians?' she joked.

I saw the shadow that flicked across her face when she said that and it made me wish a court needed nothing more than a couple of looks and blood draining away from a face in fear to prove if someone was guilty or innocent. And then I had a brainwave. What Cameron really needed was a holiday. Away from her guardians who I knew by now, with out a shadow of a doubt, physically and probably mentally hurt her. Away from Hogwarts and school work and the endless gossip. And away from awkward teachers asking awkward questions.

'Cameron?' I asked. 'How would you like to go to Wales?'

* * *

°Crepuscular rays are, ironically, 'God's Rays' or specific rays or sunlight.

* * *

Written: Unknown  
Chances of continuation: nil

Feel free to use this piece of writing for whatever the hell you want, so long as you credit me (either this account or my main one - Calistabelle) and let me know what you do with it.

Much love,  
Cal


	9. Chapter 9

**All's Fair; Chapter Nine**

_**Summary:**__ Somehow surviving the last battle hasn't changed Severus Snape one bit. Now, seven years later, can the arrival of a new Charms teacher with a gift for smoothing over rough edges break down the walls he's built around his heart? SS/OC.  
__**Disclaimer:**__ I own nothing except the storyline and Danielle Prince.  
__**Warning:**__ This chapter rated K+  
__**Word Count:**__ 3363_

_**9: Power of Speech**_

It didn't take much persuasion to get Cameron to want to come with me for the half term holiday, and only a little more to get Minerva's permission. So that's what I was going to do. It sounded crazy, even in my head. I'd been at my new job for little more than two months and already I was taking a student home. How I was going to explain it to my family, I didn't know. And then there was my pregnancy, I had to tell them about that too.

As for Severus, well. We didn't talk to each other, but we weren't avoiding each other either. And on the last Friday of term when there was only the two of us in the teacher's lounge, we sat in easy, companionable silence. I noticed, as well, that the student population seemed easier around him – they did still all act as though he was about to blow up at any minute, but it was as if the explosion was a possibility, rather than a definite. The rumours surrounding us were never ending, but the only one that came close to the truth (that Severus and I were having an abusive, lust-filled affair) was immediately dismissed. I was in the staffroom when Neville told Severus and me that particular story. Minerva and Poppy, the only ones who knew the truth, watched our reactions closely.

'Oh yes,' I'd said. 'We're very much in love!' I giggled and blew a kiss to Severus. He'd merely raised his eyebrows at me, his expression completely deadpan. Neville had laughed out loud at this and probably would have teased us further if the bell hadn't rung just then and called us to our lessons.

On Friday evening I was packing my bags for the holiday when I heard a smart tap from the portrait hole door.

'Yeap, come in!' I called, dumping a pile of clothes in my bag before going to see who had come in. I was pleasantly surprised to find Severus, standing there, wine bottle in hand.

'Drinks?' he asked.

At that I laughed, remembering what had happened the last time he had offered me alcohol. 'Sorry, Sev. Pregnancy rule number three: _thou must not drink alcohol_.'

'Three?' he asked, an eyebrow creeping slowly up his forehead.

I giggled. 'Right after drugs and smoking,' I said, trying to talk sagely, but failing miserably.

He nodded in speculative amusement and I waved at the sofa, but he didn't sit down. 'I just came to give you this and wish you a good holiday,' he said.

'Thanks,' I replied with a grin, taking the bottle he offered to me. I turned from him momentarily to put the bottle in the alcohol cabinet. When I turned back Severus was a lot closer to me – not even a foot away. I took a gasp at the air as he placed a flat palm across my still-flat belly whilst looking me directly in the eyes.

'Take care of yourself and Cameron and… our baby.' From his hesitation I realised that this situation was as new and strange to him as it was for me, and whilst I had quickly come to accept it he was not so quick with the emotional bounce back. As I looked into those deep, almost mournful, obsidian eyes I wondered to myself what had happened to him that he was so lonely. For that was something he did not even try to hide.

His hand slipped down to grip mine and he made as if to kiss me, but seemed to think better of it and turned away from me and streaked from the room faster than lightning. I wanted to call out to him; to let him know that he could kiss me – _please_ would he kiss me – that, even if it was only me, I was not afraid of him.

I stared a long time at the space he had vacated and my hands moved first to my belly where his hand had touched me so tenderly, and then moved to my face, grazing my lips longingly, wishing it was he that was touching my lips and caressing my face. It was only then that I realised that he had put a slip of paper in my hand. I unfolded it and read the distinctive, flowing writing;

_If you ever need to reach me, use the floo and say; 'Spinner's End,' _

I managed to stumble over to my armchair before I collapsed. Severus had been through so much and had had to deal with so much over the past couple of weeks – and it was all because of me. But, touched and surprised as I was, I still needed to be ready to leave early tomorrow. I hauled myself up and continued packing, though my mind insistently stayed dwelling on Severus. Later, when I fell asleep, Severus was in the peripheral visions of my dreams and, as much as I searched for him, I could never get a proper look.

The next morning broke cold and clean. I met Cameron in the Entrance Hall as we had agreed and we set off down to Hogsmeade where I would Apparate us to my home. Cameron had only brought a small bag and silently I wondered if that had been her choice or if that was simply all the casual clothes she had. Out loud I asked; 'Are you sure you have everything?'

Cameron nodded. 'Yes. What about you? You don't have any bags.'

I pulled my _Reducio_-d bags from my pocket and chuckled at Cameron's wonderment. 'Magic comes in handy once in a while,' I said cheerfully.

'Am I allowed to do magic whilst I'm away?' Cameron asked me.

'Sorry, Cameron, but you're not considered old enough to control your magic and you'll be outside school grounds.' I winked at her. 'You can still go flying, though.'

The girl blushed and bit her lip. 'I can't – I don't – ' she stuttered. 'I can't fly,' she finally said in an embarrassed whisper.

My grin never faded as I assured her that I would teach her as well as I could. Cameron giggled at this and said that rumour had it I could teach anyone anything.

'Anything?'

'Anything!' she repeated, laughing.

As we crossed out of the school grounds I could sense the life of the magical barrier and I turned immediately to the eleven year old. 'We can Apparate from here, unless there was anything you wanted from Hogsmeade first?'

Cameron frantically shook her head, and although I wanted to press the matter, I decided that now was neither the time nor the place.

'OK then, have you got hold of everything?' I asked, taking tight hold of her hand. She nodded and I twisted us into the familiar, unpleasant sensation of Apparating. 'Still all here?' I said upon our arrival, confident that I hadn't splinched anything.

But Cameron didn't answer, she was too busy staring at the little cottage I called home. We were standing in the front garden – in one of the flowerbeds to be exact – and before us was the two-up-two-down house that was as throttled by ivy as ever. Well, it had been a two-up-two-down until the handy little accessory of magic had created an extra two rooms. Realising I still had hold of her hand I tugged Cameron towards my home, casting the charm to unlock the door. I showed her into the tiny but, I thought, cosy living room, the kitchen/dining room on the other side and one of the extra rooms which housed the bathroom. Cameron took every inch in with wide, disbelieving eyes.

'Would you like to see your room?' I enquired of her, nudging her shoulder.

'Yes,' she breathed.

I followed her up the stairs where there were two doors, one of which had two door knobs.

'Which do I open?' she asked me, frowning.

'The, um, right handle on the left-hand door,' I said from behind her.

She opened it and we stepped into the small, rosy guest bedroom. Its walls were covered in bookshelves with a wardrobe and a table. The rest of the space was taken up by a double bed which looked a little silly in the tiny room. Cameron shot me a questioning look and I shrugged, telling her most of my family members and friends were either married or attached.

'My room is across from here and if you open the other handle of this door you'll end up in my study,' I told her. 'Now, do you want to get settled in while I make some breakfast?'

Cameron agreed to this so I dumped my bags in my room before heading down into the kitchen. I'd brought some bacon and Janie had been bringing the hens' eggs in so I started up the cooker and chucked them on. I leant against the work surface and looked across the room. I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply, a smile curving across my mouth. It was good to be home. Cameron and I had a whole week to look forward to. Cameron came down the stairs and peeked nervously around the corner. I gestured to one of the chairs and gave both her and myself a large helping of fried eggs and bacon.

'What do you want to do this morning?' I asked her. 'I have to go and stock up on food supplies and then let my brother and mum know I'm back for the week. You can come with me or I could drop you off in town and you can explore for a bit. Or you could stay here and borrow some of my books, whatever you like.'

I think perhaps I gave her a little too much choice since she seemed a little overwhelmed for a moment.

'Do you mind – can I come with you?' she said eventually.

'No probs. Just warning you that it might be a bit boring and my family is a bit – eh – eccentric,' I apologised in advance.

'Can't be worse than mine,' she muttered, so low that I don't think she meant for me to hear. So I pretended not to. 'That's fine,' she said louder.

I smiled, trying not to show the sharp concern I felt. 'Well, if you're sure…' I winked. 'Actually, that's not a bad idea. I have no idea what sort of things you like to eat.'

She shrugged, but smiled, the momentary cynicism forgotten.

In the end we had quite a lot of fun. We went to one of the large supermarkets and got the basic; flour, milk etc. Then we started guessing what the other wanted – starting off with the safe things like pizza and chocolate, but by the end choosing things like vanilla sal and some kind of pink, cod roe mush that declared itself to be 'taramasalata'. The trolley, when we finally headed to the tills, was piled high with enough food to feed an army for a month, let along the two of us for a week.

'We're never going to eat all this!' Cameron giggled, echoing my thoughts.

I laughed along with her. 'No, but what we don't eat I can give to my brother, who can give it to Sheila.'

'Sheila? Who's Sheila?'

'Oh, you'll see,' I said with an amused smirk, not saying anymore although Cameron asked.

We packed the bags into the tiny boot of my old-school mini, which had been a marvel to Cameron when she first saw it, hidden behind the house. Then, since Cameron had decided to come with me and there was no rush, we walked about the town. Cameron had clearly never been to an entirely Muggle village before and was fascinated by everything she saw. I didn't have the heart to tell her that half the people she saw were, in fact, witches or wizards. Ever since Voldemort became a threat 20 to 30 years ago the town council had decided to revert to Muggle ways so we could be left alone. On the whole the plan had worked and the people who lived here either preferred the Muggle ways or, arguably, were simply too lazy to turn it back.

We went into the butchers for some 'proper' steak and I couldn't help but laugh at the look of fascinated horror on Cameron's face as the butcher carved the meat up for us. We went into the bookshop and came out half an hour later with several books each. Cameron had protested, but I had told her she was my guest, and besides, if I read them too it didn't count. Next we headed into a film and music shop. Try as I might I couldn't explain to Cameron how CDs worked, or what a movie was. So, when she pointed out DVD title and said, 'Hey, I've read that!' I bought it and said we could watch it that night.

Then we went clothes shopping. Well. Browsing. I didn't need new clothes – except, perhaps, a new set of robes, but I wouldn't get those in a Muggle shop – and Cameron refused to let me pay and didn't have money of her own. But that didn't stop us trying things on. After a matching, hideous set of canary-yellow frilly dresses we decided to call it a day and have some lunch.

A couple of sandwiches and chocolate fudge sundaes later – a _little_ indulgence – I decided it was time to face the family bomb. Unlike my family, I lived only a couple of miles outside town, so we took all of the shopping home first. I offered Cameron the chance to stay again, but it seemed the girl did not want to be left alone which I didn't blame her for. So we piled back into my little tomato-red mini and set off to face the explosion. The entire time I debated with myself as to whether or not I should tell Cameron first and who I should tell my family the father was. They probably deserved the truth, but what would they think of me?

After a fairly long journey spent discussing the pros and cons of Muggle villages I pulled into the driveway of the large country home that had supposedly housed my family for hundreds of generations but had, in all likelihood, been bought by my grandfather. I told Cameron this, but she seemed more interested in the house itself than its history. I explained to her that most of the garden design and a large quantity of the indoor décor had been done by my family decorating business when she asked when it was dated. She seemed oddly disappointed by my answer.

'I like old things,' she said simply when I asked.

I didn't bother knocking, but went straight in and was nearly bowled over by the old English sheepdog that pounced on me as soon as she could. Cameron gave a shriek as the dog licked at my face which looked, I knew, a lot like she was eating me.

'Down, girl,' I said, shoving her away from me. 'Claude! Janie!' I called out before turning to Cameron. 'It's alright,' I assured her. 'Cameron, meet Sheila. Sheila is my brother's dog.'

Cameron's eyes widened in surprise as she realised the significance of what I'd said about the spare food and gave a snort of laughter.

'Dog?' a female voice said from the corridor. 'More like the love of his life.'

'Hey, Janie,' I greeted, hugging her and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

'I swear Claude spends longer fussing over the dog than he does me,' Janie complained good-naturedly, returning my greeting.

'Sheila says 'thanks' more often,' my brother said from behind her, getting a playful elbow in the ribs. 'Hey sis.' He stepped forward and grasped me in a rib-breaking hug and kissed my forehead.

'Miss me?' I teased.

'A little. How's the new job going for you? And who's this?' he asked, nodding towards Cameron.

'Claude, meet Cameron Black. Cameron, meet my little brother, self-proclaimed genius and door-knob polisher, Claude. And his wife, cook-extraordinaire, Janie.' I made the introductions.

Claude shook hands with Cameron and stage whispered, 'Ignore her. I _am_ a genius, but I run the family business now. I let the little people do the door-knobs.'

'You run the family business?' I asked incredulously. 'Since when? Did mum suddenly keel over and die or something?' For as long as I could remember my mum ran things. Whether it was the house, the business or making dinner, mum was in control. My dad just used to pretend for visitors.

Janie rolled her eyes. 'Do you want to come in to the kitchen for some tea and talk about it there?'

I nodded and hauled Sheila out of the way so we could shut the door. The four of us walked a short distance down the corridor and turned into the large, friendly kitchen. Claude, Cameron and myself sat on the bar stools at the island in the middle of the room as Janie fussed around us.

'Need help, love?' my brother asked.

Janie shook her head. 'No. Just you tell Danni about the business.'

I was genuinely worried by this point and asked flat out what had happened.

'Mum,' Claude told me gravely, 'gave me control of the business so she could start a… uh… online gallery.'

'Online? As in a Muggle computer over the internet?' I asked incredulously.

'Yes,' Claude and Janie said at the same moment and we, all three of us, burst into laughter. The thought of my mother, strict, tidy, old-fashioned Marie, working on a Muggle device was just too funny. Cameron seemed a little baffled by this and I doubted if she knew what 'computer' and 'internet' were.

A while later, after the tea had been consumed and the plate of warm biscuits Janie had produced from somewhere had been finished; Janie asked Cameron if she wanted to take Sheila for a walk. 'Let those two catch up on family stuff,' she said, winking. Cameron, who had quickly overcome her wariness of the huge softy, had agreed enthusiastically.

'So,' Claude said once they were gone. 'Why is she here? Presumably this isn't an 'out-of-kindness' thing.'

It didn't take me long to tell my brother Cameron's story. After all, I knew very little about her.

'They won't tell you her mother's name? But – why you? Why not this Severus person, or the headmistress?'

'Severus is slightly…' I paused, searching for the right word, 'daunting. And Minerva is a Gryffindor. Being Slytherin, Cameron isn't going to trust her until this ridiculous prejudice between the houses is overcome. I don't think they'd have asked me except Cameron seems to trust me.' As I said this I remembered sharply the first lesson we'd had and Cameron's tortured face and her scream when I'd asked her to pull out her wand. 'Just like them,' she'd said. I think, now, I was starting to understand.

'I still think they should tell you everything,' Claude said frowning. 'They can't expect you to trust them if they don't trust you.'

'I don't know, Claude. I think they do trust me. I just think they expect me to react differently around Cameron if I knew who her criminal mother is.'

'Would you?'

'No. I don't think so anyway,' I replied seriously. 'You aren't defined by who your parents are. Look at Nana for example.' Our father's mother had, since about 35 years old, suffered from bouts of blind madness during which she would have committed any number or crimes – including murder – were it not for the intervention of her husband.

'That's different,' Claude blurted defensively. No one knew the cause of her madness and it was a matter debated fiercely within our family.

'Is it?' I asked, suddenly tired of this. I didn't want to revive the same old argument that had no resolution. 'There's something else as well,' I said.

'More?' he exasperated.

I nodded and took a deep breathe, deciding to take the plunge and get this over and done with as soon as I could. 'I'm pregnant.'

* * *

Written: Unknown  
Chances of continuation: nil

Feel free to use this piece of writing for whatever the hell you want, so long as you credit me (either this account or my main one - Calistabelle) and let me know what you do with it.

Much love,  
Cal


	10. Chapter 10

**All's Fair; Chapter Ten**

**_Summary: _**_Arriving at Hogwarts as new charms teacher, Dannielle 'Danni' Prince soon finds that surly Potions Master, Severus Snape, is the least of her worries when ghosts of the past come back searching for vengeance. SS/OC_  
**_Disclaimer:_**_ I own nothing except the storyline and Danielle Prince._  
**_Warning:_**_ This chapter rated M_  
**_Word Count:_**_ 2539_  
**_Beta: _**_All-Knowing Alien 2_

**10: Backwards and Forwards**

_I nodded and took a deep breath, deciding to take the plunge and get this over and done with as soon as I could. 'I'm pregnant.'_

'What?' Claude stood so suddenly the stool span out backwards, crashing to the floor behind him. I winced at the noise, but Claude didn't even seem to notice. 'Pregnant? By your ex? Oh, I'll kill the mother fuc-'

'Claude!' I shouted, cutting him off. 'It's not him!'

'What?' he said again. Suddenly a look of understanding flashed across his features. 'Wait… is this your warped way of telling me you met an old friend, had a whirlwind romance and are getting married, because I really don't think-'

'I'm not getting married,' I interrupted again. He looked at me cluelessly for a few moments before I took pity on the poor guy. 'I had a one night stand,' I said bluntly. 'The guy is nice enough and we are, slowly, becoming friends, but we're both stubborn as mules when we want to be, so don't go getting any ideas.' And pray that he never finds out I called him _nice enough_. Severus would cut me up and pickle me in those infamous jars of his.

'You need to say that to mum, not me,' said Claude. He seemed to be taking the news remarkably well and I was tempted to check his temperature. 'Who is he?' he asked.

'No one you know.' I might think my brother was relatively calm, but that didn't mean he wouldn't fly tooth and nail at any guy who knocked up his sister. I was, I realised, touched that he cared. But right now I was too annoyed by his behaviour to care.

Claude seemed to realise that he wouldn't get an answer out of me just yet, so instead asked a different question; 'What are you going to do?'

_Boy_ did I hate that question. 'I'm not sure,' I finally answered after a moment contemplating telling the truth or not. 'The father's said he wants to be involved and I trust him.' I saw Claude's disbelieving look and I shot him a glare. 'I have enough saved to survive a couple of years and I'm earning a packet at Hogwarts.'

'You're going to get fired,' Claude said stiffly.

I felt my emotions swirling to a climax and covered my face with my hands in an attempt to control myself. I hadn't thought about it. I never thought about anything. My happy-go-lucky ways had let me live this long, but here I was, heading into the deepest, darkest middle ages with no man – or woman – by my side except for family and friends. And I was trying to distance myself from my own life by trying to solve everyone else's problems. I felt a sob building up and my eyes beginning to sting when my brother's warm arms wrapped around my shoulders and he hugged me to him.

'Hey, shh,' Claude whispered to me and I turned into him and cried into his shoulder.

After a moment I got a hold of myself and squared my shoulders.

Claude stepped back and smiled encouragingly. 'You OK now?' he asked.

'Yeah,' I said with a sniff. 'Hormones,' I clarified.

Then, as good timing would have it, we heard Janie, Cameron and Sheila return from their walk. I quickly took a different door out of the kitchen into a bathroom to clear up the mess of my face and when I returned I found Cameron and Sheila with identical goofy expressions and covered in mud. I raised my eyebrows at Cameron and she looked slightly ashamed.

'It was her fault!' the girl shouted, pointing at the dog. Sheila barked and shook, spraying mud everywhere.

Wiping away the clod of dirt that had splattered into my eyes I said, 'OK, Cameron, I think you need a bath. Thanks, bro, Janie, but I think we should head home.'

'Aww,' Cameron moaned. 'But we just got here.'

My brother laughed and I shot him a condescending look. 'How about you and Dan head home and join us again at seven for dinner?' he asked.

I was about to decline, but I saw Cameron's puppy dog eyes pleading with me and I caved. 'Fine. But you, young missy, are going to be on your best behaviour,' I said in my very best McGonagall impression. Cameron noticed and laughed, mock saluting me.

Casting a quick cleaning spell over Cameron so she wouldn't spoil my car seats, I said a brief goodbye to my brother, his wife and their adorable, mud-soaked mutt and whisked Cameron out in to the car.

'So? Did they live up to your expectations?' I asked, laughing at Cameron's mud-splattered expression. Maybe I should have used a stronger cleaning spell.

A shadow flickered over Cameron's face and I could almost hear her thinking _anything's better than _my_ family_, but she was soon smiling again, incredibly bright blue eyes sparkling as she recounted the exact occurrences leading up to being covered in mud from head to foot. One of my eyebrows arched high up my forehead as I watched her with thinly veiled disbelief, which had her laughing even harder.

'You better not wear that expression at school,' she giggled. 'People will start to think Professor Snape has possessed you!'

I winked at her before doing my very best impression of Severus, disgusted sneer and all. 'And what makes you think, Miss Black, that I haven't?'

Cameron giggled again and I continued to tease her in my Severus' persona as we drove the rest of the way home.

'You know,' Cameron said as we pulled into my driveway. 'You seem to know a lot of Snape's mannerisms.'

I lapsed into thoughtful silence for a moment as I parked the car and went to unlock the door. 'Severus isn't all he seems to be under first impression,' I told her, agreeably, rather cryptically. 'I think there's a lot about him that no one knows, and even less that people understand.'

'You're not going to say any more than that, are you?'

'Nope,' I said cheerfully, though my mind drifted back to the night I had found Severus at breaking point. I knew that on some level that had been my fault, but it was also, I think, good for him to break down – to allow himself room to breathe, even if it was under the influence of that disgusting but strong liquor of his. 'Come on, let's get you into the bath.'

'Do you have bubbles?' Cameron asked, with playful sincerity. It did not escape my notice, however, that she had recognised and accepted the change of subject.

'Uh-huh. They're Slytherin green and pop into silver sparks, too,' I deadpanned.

'Um… doesn't that hurt?'

I laughed out loud and dragged her through to the bathroom, I pointed out the bath bubble bottles and told her she could pick any she liked, but threatened her with head removal if she drained any of them. Cameron nodded, and positively _shoved_ me out the door. I chuckled again and left her to it.

When I went back into the kitchen I found that the constant turmoil that had been in my mind for the past week had calmed considerably. Being able to make Cameron happy and telling my brother about my predicament had filled me with some kind of peace that I hadn't even noticed I was missing. I made my way into the tiny kitchen and turned on the kettle. I leaned against the work surface and gazed absently at the clock on the wall, the bright red second hand ticking slowly round and round as I stared at it.

I became so hypnotised by the movement that I didn't even notice when the doorbell rang through the house. When it rang a second time I snapped back to reality, noticing with a twinge that the water I had been boiling had long since cooled down. I stood up straight and went to the front door, pulling it open with my apology already on the tip of my tongue. But when I saw who it was, my words died in my throat.

'Bellatrix Lestrange,' I finally managed to choke out.

Her eyes glinted madly at me, but when she spoke her voice was cool and calculated. 'Danielle Prince.'

My peace of mind was lost. What the Hell was Bellatrix doing at my house when she should, by all rights, be slowly rotting away in a wooden box six feet under?

I froze as the murderess of my brother, fiancé and countless others moved forwards so her face was a hair's breadth from mine. She let out a breath and my nose was filled with the stench of decay and earth. Slowly Bellatrix started circling me; her body disgustingly close in the small space of my hallway.

'So nice to see you,' she spat softly in my ear. 'How's your dear… Jesse, was it?'

I shuddered at this reminder, but shook it off. 'I don't know Bella, why don't you tell me, since you're back from the land of the dead?'

A hissing laugh escaped her lips and her spit clung to my hair and earlobe. 'You have something of mine, _dearest_. I've come to take it back.'

Something of hers? What could I possibly have that might once have belonged to this heartless woman? _'Cameron's the product of a union made in hell…'_ Severus' words drifted in to my mind and my eyes widened as I realised that Cameron, my charge, was the soul heir and daughter to Bellatrix Lestrange. Or Bella Black as she had been born and christened. This meant that Cameron had not only inherited the practically non-existant Lestrange fortune, but also the extensive property and holdings of the Black family. It should have been obvious, but no one knew that of Bellatrix, Sirius and Regulus, one of them had children.

After the war Sirius and Regulus' names had been cleared posthumously and Sirius had been named Harry Potter's Godfather. I, like the rest of the general public, presumed that Potter would inherit the entire Black fortune as the line was broken. But here, before my eyes, was the proof it was not. Bellatrix was alive – as was her daughter. Wait. Something didn't quite add up. Rodolphus Lestrange had died over twenty years ago. Either he too had miraculously avoided death or Cameron had a different father.

'I'm curious,' I stated mere seconds after Bella's last remark. 'Is your darling husband around somewhere or does your daughter have a different father?'

Bellatrix snorted her amusement and pushed me roughly back against the wall. 'Cameron's father was not that incompetent fool of a man!' Her voice lowered to a husky whisper and her lips moved once again to my ear. 'Since you're going to die, would you like to hear a secret?' If possible her voice got even quieter. 'Cameron is daughter to my Dark Lord himself.'

Then pain ripped through my body. Unbearable; it was like brilliant, white hot light searing through me, like I had swallowed a star. I stumbled and fell to my knees, a small whine escaping my throat – I refused to scream for this murderous bitch. After what seemed like hours, days maybe, Bella lifted the spell to kick me harshly across the midriff as a long hiss of irritation slipped from her cracked lips.

'Scream for me,' she ordered. 'Scream! Cruciatus!'

Again the light was searing through me – teasing and pulling at every nerve ending and feeling in my body and slowly shredding it to nothing. I clung blindly to my mind – to my sanity.

But it would be so simple – so _easy_ – just to let go and slip away from the pain. So tempting. I knew, though, that if I let go now I would never quite be able to get back again. So I anchored myself with the pain, I sent my mind to meet Bella's and forced my way in, too distracted to bother with subtlety. I absorbed her mind entirely with mine and then we both screamed.

The room was deadly silent.

As soon as I had shifted my mind to share it with the unwilling Bella the curse was broken. We were both now standing and staring at each other.

'Where is she?' Bellatrix asked, her keening voice harsh.

'Why would I tell you?' I replied.

Bella threw back her head and laughed madly, her hair wild and static. 'Cause if you don't I will kill you,' she explained with morbid delight.

I smiled slightly and the duel began in earnest. Flashes of deadly light flew across the room, exploding through the air and utterly destroying the downstairs rooms of my house.

That made me incredibly angry. This house may not have been much, but it was still my home so I retaliated with twice the ferocity.

Neither of us were bothering to talk out loud anymore and our spells were becoming increasingly non-verbal. Despite the fuelling anger I could feel my strength waning under Bella's onslaught, the minutes spent under her Cruciatus starting to play rampant on my mind and body.

But the final blow was not one I expected at all.

'Professor? Is everything alright?' Cameron called, appearing at the bathroom door wrapped in a large white fluffy towel, her hair plastered wetly across the back of her neck and shoulders. She looked the picture of innocence with her wide, gleaming eyes.

'Cameron!' I shouted, immediately distracted from the battle. 'Get back to your room and loc-' I was cut off by a hard, bony fist to my jaw.

My mouth rapidly filled with blood and it felt as though I'd bitten my tongue in half. Before I could even begin to recover my wits or attempt to clear the stars from my vision Bellatrix descended upon me. Her wand lay forgotten on the floor as she attacked me tooth and nail. My knees crumpled beneath me as Bellatrix ground at my flesh, my fingers breaking like twigs under her feet and I felt as though my cheek had been ripped right off by her clawing fingers.

I tried to crawl away and she kicked viciously once, twice, three times and I could, beneath the blood red veil, vaguely hear someone screaming to stop. I hoped it wasn't me. Then I felt my thighs become slick with thick, sticky liquid and I remembered – _remembered_.

'Baby,' I managed to say after several tries. The word felt sad and happy at the same time.

'My baby,' I repeated, clutching at my stomach, rolling up and rocking backwards and forwards.

Backwards and Forwards. 'Baby.'

Backwards and Forwards. 'My baby.'

Backwards and Forwards. 'Baby.'

Backwards and Forwards. 'My baby.'

Through the blood red veil I could see Cameron curled up in a corner as far from Bella as possible, sobbing her poor little heart out. Such a sweet little girl. And there was her mother standing tall and vain and alone. I closed my eyes and rocked. Backwards and forwards. Maybe if I ignored that proud, smirking lady for long enough she might go away. Maybe.

I peeked my eyes open and saw her point a wooden stick at me. Oh, her wand. She smiled, there was a flash of light and I whispered 'baby' one more time.

Then the world went black.

* * *

Written: Unknown  
Chances of continuation: nil

Feel free to use this piece of writing for whatever the hell you want, so long as you credit me (either this account or my main one - Calistabelle) and let me know what you do with it.

Much love,  
Cal


	11. Interlude

**All's Fair; Interlude I**

**_Summary: _**_Arriving at Hogwarts as new charms teacher, Dannielle 'Danni' Prince soon finds that surly Potions Master, Severus Snape, is the least of her worries when ghosts of the past come back searching for vengeance. SS/OC_  
**_Disclaimer:_**_ I own nothing except the storyline and Danielle Prince_  
**_Warning: _**_This mini-chapter rated K+_  
**_Word Count: _**_815_  
**_Beta: _**_All-Knowing Alien 2_

**I: The Blood Red Veil**

I was somewhere but nowhere. There were walls, but the room seemed to stretch on forever. It was definitely square, but there were no corners, so I guess it was a circle as well. Perhaps I should have looked more closely, but my mind was thick and hazy. I wondered vaguely if this was it. The afterlife. Heaven. Or, perhaps, Hell. It was awfully empty and lonely.

A figure appeared. I wasn't sure how. It were just there. It seemed the most natural thing in the world.

'Hello,' said a familiar voice.

'Hi Jesse,' I replied and the figure stepped forward, wrapping me up in his arms. He looked so much like my lost love and yet… different somehow.

'I missed you,' he confessed, burying his head into my neck and kissing me there. His touch made my skin tingle in a way akin to being caressed by a ghost.

'Same,' I said.

'But you've moved on?' he asked, no accusation in his tone, just curiosity.

'I love you, Jesse, always will,' I assured him. 'But it's been awhile.'

'Yeah, too long.'

We stepped away from each other and sat together cross-legged on the floor that wasn't a floor. 'What is this place?' I asked.

'Somewhere in between.'

'Life and death?'

He nodded slowly.

'So I'm not dead?'

'No.'

'But then, what are you doing here?'

He looked up at me slowly, his expression suddenly heavy. 'I'm stuck here,' he explained. 'Stuck in limbo and I don't know why.' He slammed his fist down on to the not-floor.

I lifted the hand and slowly unclenched his fingers. I lifted it to my mouth and kissed the palm gently. His eyes flickered shut, reminding me hauntingly of the sweet years we had spent together before his death, when we had made love in the early hours of the morning and then just lay in each other's arms, eyes flickering shut under soft, loving caresses.

'Who else is here?' I asked gently.

Jesse shrugged. 'This place is weird. It is and it isn't and it's impossible to get bored, despite there being nothing to do. Sometimes there are lots of people, sometimes there are none. I don't know how it works.' His eyes stared at me dully and I realised how much that bothered him. Whilst I soaked up information, he yearned for it; my Jesse was addicted to learning more. I shook my head. Not my Jesse anymore – just Jesse.

Then his eyes lit up. 'I know!' he cried, jumping to his feet and tugging me up too. 'I can show you the veil!'

'The veil?' I asked, laughing as he pulled me into a run.

Again the weirdness of the situation struck me. We were running, but also standing still. The wind was whipping through our hair, yet the air was still. And whilst we were definitely moving towards something it didn't seem to be getting closer. Then we stopped. Or started.

There, before us, was a large marble arch and from it hung a thin, filmy, deep red curtain that was fluttering in a non-existent wind. Or maybe the wind did exist and the veil was still. It was impossible to tell in this place.

'The Blood Red Veil,' I murmured.

Jesse looked at me curiously. 'No one's called it that for years. It's just The Veil,' he said.

'I've seen through it before.' I paused, uncertain as to what to say. 'When Bella was hurting me I could see her, but the colours were wrong. Not… red, just… different. Shiny but dull.'

He looked at me and nodded. 'I know. You can see things from here to both life and death. Hardly anyone looks forward, though.'

I cocked my head in unspoken curiosity.

'Would you want to know you were destined for Hell?' Jesse replied.

Nodding I looked back at the arch. 'Can I look in?'

There was a long, pregnant pause.

'What are you going to look for?' he asked me finally.

'Cameron,' I replied. 'I don't want to see me – that would be too weird – but I need to make sure Cameron's alright.'

Jesse bit his lip, then let me pass so I could look more closely at the veil. I ran my hand over the shimmering cloth, barely a centimetre from the ancient artefact. The veil rippled around my hand as though I had touched it and as it moved it change – seemed to solidify. Then a picture appeared that was more than TV, but less than real life. I leant forward to see, but the pictures became no clearer. When I finally thought I could see something clearly I moved ever closer, not realising my proximity to the veil until it was too late.

I heard a cry from behind me, but before it had registered I had fallen through and my world had, once again, turned black.

* * *

Written: Unknown  
Chances of continuation: nil

Feel free to use this piece of writing for whatever the hell you want, so long as you credit me (either this account or my main one - Calistabelle) and let me know what you do with it.

Much love,  
Cal


	12. Chapter 11

**All's Fair; Chapter Eleven**

_**Summary:**__ Arriving at Hogwarts as new charms teacher, Dannielle 'Danni' Prince soon finds that surly Potions Master, Severus Snape, is the least of her worries when ghosts of the past come back searching for vengeance. SS/OC  
__**Disclaimer:**__ I own nothing.  
__**Beta:**__ All-Knowing Alien 2  
__**Word Count:**__ 3253_

**11: Speaking Up**

Waking up was difficult. I'd never noticed before, but it was really, really hard. A vague thought fluttered across my mind that maybe this was how normal people found every single morning. My mind snickered at the thought and I sent a silent thank you up to whatever Gods there might be up there that I was blessed with strangeness.

I opened my eyes slowly and was blinded by the bright white ceiling that stared reproachfully back at me. Then two concerned faces swam into view.

'Dan?' a comfortably familiar voice asked, apparently coming from the lips of one of the faces.

I tried to form a reply, but while my lips and tongue cooperated, I was unable to make a noise.

'Shh, don't try and talk,' Claude said, placing a hand on my shoulder. He shot a look to Janie, who was the other person there, and received a quiet nod. 'Whatever happened – they –' he choked, unable to continue.

'You can't talk anymore,' Janie filled in quietly. 'Whoever it was that was fighting you thought it might be a funny idea to let you live, but sever your vocal cords.'

_Good thing that isn't a problem, then._ I replied calmly, projecting my inner voice so they both could hear it.

My brother's head, which had been bowed in defeat, snapped up. His eyes flashed contrasting emotions of relief and horror. 'You can't!' he exclaimed.

_I can,_ I assured him. _Do you think I would make the same mistake as so many before me? Give me a little more credit than that, please._

'But – this… I don't think this is a very good idea, sis.'

_A good idea? I wonder where along the line any of this is a good idea__._I said coolly.

Claude shook his head, but said no more.

_What happened? How did you find me? _I demanded they tell me.

Janie sighed and helped me sit up on the bed. It felt like my whole body was aching and I was pretty sure I had gained more than a couple of broken bones, but I was determined to listen through what they had to tell me.

'We were waiting for you. You said you wanted to have a bath and then you were coming round for dinner, so we thought it would take you two hours at the most, but when you still hadn't arrived four hours after you left, we were getting a bit nervous. Claude decided we should fire-call you just to check if you were both simply having really long baths.

'You can't imagine his shock when he found your living room looking like a bomb had exploded and you lying there, unconscious and bleeding.'

I was thankful that Janie filled in no more details than that. My house may have been small, but it was still my home and I didn't particularly want to hear how badly Bellatrix had beaten me.

'Claude immediately called me to help you and allow him to alert St Mungo's. It didn't take long to get you to the hospital and it soon became clear that the injuries were a lot better than they seemed.' Janie told me.

_Yeah, the bitch got so enraged she ended up forgetting about her wand,_ I told them.

'You know who it was then?' Claude cried out, jumping up from his seat.

_Kind of hard not to notice… Especially since the woman in question is supposed to have been dead for the last seven and a half years._

Claude and Janie frowned and I shrugged. Cameron's identity had been kept secret for a reason and I was not about to let that secret loose. Not yet, anyway. I had lost my voice, quite a bit of pride and Cameron – I was not going to lose Minerva' or Severus' trust.

'Well, who is it then?'

_Nu-uh, I still have questions and since I'm the one who almost died, you'll answer them first, _I teased Claude half-heartedly. The frown deepened, but he said nothing more. _How long have I been out?_

'About thirty hours.'

_What happened to Cameron?_

'We don't know. There were no signs of any blood other than yours in the entire house, but her wand was still in the bathroom inside the pocket of her clothes.'

Oh, of course. Cameron had come out of the bathroom when she heard the noise, but she had only been wearing a towel. So the girl had no means of protection. But then, how are you supposed to protect yourself from your own mother? I shuddered at the thought of what Bellatrix might be doing to poor little Cameron right now.

'You know more than you're telling us,' Claude accused.

_Yes, but there are others I need to talk to first. Is there anything else important I might need to know?_

'Well,' Janie started hesitantly, 'I don't know if it's important, but after the operation you kept muttering about a 'blood red veil'? And you said Jesse's name a lot as well.'

Her words tugged at my mind, but I could not think of what they could possibly mean – what on Earth was a blood red veil?

_Thank you. Can you contact the school for me? I need to talk to both the Headmistress and her deputy,_ I asked them gently, but firmly. Again Claude and Janie shared a look that revealed some depth, but I couldn't for the life of me work out what the message being passed between them was.

'Mr Snape is already here,' Claude said stiffly after a moment.

My hand, upon Severus' name, automatically moved to rest on my belly. Janie didn't seem to notice, but Claude saw and shook his head sadly. I let out a strangled cry and buried my face in my hands.

I heard Claude bustling Janie out of the room, despite her protests and questions as to what was wrong with me. But they left and I was alone again. It was nice; I realised, to be alone so I could wallow, for just a little bit, in the grief that now tore through me. My baby, my wonderful, beautiful little baby that hadn't even got a chance to see the world. I brought my knees up to my chest and hugged myself up into the smallest position I could, not looking up when the door opened.

'What happened?' His voice – oh, his glorious, silky, wondrous voice!

I tried for a moment to answer how I normally would, but there were no words. Bellatrix had taken my baby and then she had taken my words so I could not mourn properly. _She took the baby,_ I sobbed, still unable to look up at him.

'I thought…' he trailed off, uncertain what to say, but I got the gist of the thought.

_A baby, Sev, how could I not want any baby? It was a part of me, a new life that I would have done anything to keep alive._

'Why are you talking telepathically?' he asked gently. This time I did look up at him and though his face was impassive, his eyes glittered with some unnameable emotion that he refused in any other way to express.

_Just be thankful she didn't kill me,_ was all I could tell him.

'She? Ella, you're talking in riddles, I need to know the facts.' His voice came across incredibly soft and he made as if to hug me, but changed the movement so he sat down on the chair next to my bed instead.

_Bellatrix. She came to my house last night, or, I guess, two nights ago now, and demanded that I give her Cameron. When I refused, we duelled. I lost. She severed my vocal chords and took Cameron._

Severus gave a very un-Severus like half-sob, half-choke noise that had my head start up to try and find his eyes.

'I knew,' he hissed at me when he saw the question in my eyes. 'I knew who her mother was and I didn't even think of warding your house!'

_Do you think that would have changed anything? I grew up into the war, just like you, remember? My house has more wards than most of the shops in Diagon Alley, probably. Besides which, Bellatrix has been supposedly dead for eight years. You yourself said that Cameron's only known parent was deceased. _As I said that I couldn't help but lace the thought of her only known parent with venom. Severus picked up on it immediately.

'What aren't you telling me?' he snapped.

_Darling Bella informed me as to the parentage of Cameron,_ I returned frostily. I knew that he had every right, really, to be pissed off right now, but I didn't need it. In the past ten minutes I had lost my voice, my unborn baby and one of my students. Not to mention a hefty chunk of my pride. I was astonished at my own ability to hold back the tears.

'Who?' he ordered me to tell him, eyes narrowing as I spent as long as I could trying not to say it. I didn't want to say it. Didn't want to admit that Cameron was actually the child of a Dark Lord who still struck fear into the hearts of every witch and wizard alive.

_Voldemort, _I whispered into his mind, trying to hide my horror and, I believe, failing dismally.

Luckily Severus had enough of his own horror written across his face to notice mine. He opened and closed his mouth several times, reminding me strongly of a pet goldfish I'd once had until he finally managed to stutter out, 'Voldemort has a child?'

_And you thought that having Bellatrix as a mum was bad, _I replied wryly.

'This isn't a joking matter, Danielle,' he snarled at me, his brows drawn across his face in a deep frown.

_Call me that again and I'll hex your bullocks off, Severus Snape. Forgive me if I turn to sarcasm and witticisms to distract myself from the fact I should be having a mental breakdown right about now. _One thing I loved about talking telepathically? Despite having to concentrate more than in general conversation the good part was there was no need to breathe, therefore giving any verbal sparring partner no chance to but in. _Besides which I was being perfectly serious when I say that it is worse to have Voldemort as a father than it is to have Bellatrix as a mother._

Severus didn't seem to think argument deigned a proper response – either that or he couldn't think of one – and just snarled in response.

_Articulate, _I couldn't help but project dryly.

'Danielle, I realise you are in a–' he didn't get any further than that.

I did warn him, no one could suggest otherwise. So really, why he was so shocked by the fact that I actually _had_ hexed him was completely beyond me. I did not hex any parts completely off of him, however severely I was tempted (in my opinion I could – if he ever forgave me and we ever reconciled – put certain parts of his anatomy to a much better than use than lying around on the floor in a puddle of blood) though he did jump from his chair, trying surreptitiously to scratch pretty much every part of his body.

'You _bitch_,' he growled out at me as he groped around for his wand.

I didn't think I was going to get that reconciliation. _There is no counter-charm. The spell will lift in five minutes time. As you find yourself thus indisposed I would appreciate it if you left me in peace allowing me to wallow in self-evolved grief and not have to listen to your snide remarks and my full name, _I told him.

Then I rolled over onto my side, curled up under the bed sheets and slipped into the normal frame of mind before trying, mostly unsuccessfully, to fall asleep.

To tell the truth my entire body was singing – longing for some kind of movement. I had been asleep for, what was it? A day and a half and I wanted to get up and about and start trying to find someway to get Cameron back. At some point the eleven year old had stopped being just another student and had come to mean just that little bit more to me. Then a brilliant thought came to me.

Severus hadn't quite left yet and he seemed rather shocked when I sat up and would have yelled something, but instead just mouthed furiously at him.

'What?'

I struggled a moment before I managed to asked him telepathically, _Could I adopt Cameron?_

'Adopt her?' he spluttered.

_Sure, why not?_

'But where would that leave me?'

His question completely baffled me. What did he mean? My adopting Cameron shouldn't have any affect whatsoever on him. So I asked him. _What do you mean?_

'I – what – I know we don't have a traditional relationship, but…'

My mouth dropped open. He was… worried? About us? _But… I thought you only wanted one night?_

His expression turned positively thunderous. 'I thought I'd made it clear that that is no longer my wish?' he asked tightly.

_For the sake of the baby… _I trailed off, honestly baffled beyond comprehension. I was in no state to deal with this – too much was happening. And why was he angry anyway? It took me a moment longer to realise that he wasn't angry at me, he was frustrated by himself.

'I don't really have relationships. Especially with women. The longest relationship I've had lasted six months and ended… messily,' Severus told me, his face going from tormented to emotionless in a second, his voice dull and flat. That was the biggest indication that this topic was painful for him. So I chose the easiest bit.

_Especially women? _I questioned gently, knowing it was a volatile situation.

'I have no specific preference to either sex,' Severus told me clinically, though his dark eyes flashed with some unnameable emotion.

_Really? Who gave you the best shag of your life, male or female?_ I said teasingly, trying to distract him.

'Male. No names mentioned,' he paused, a purely mischievous smirk sneaking across his features for a millisecond. 'You came pretty close, though.'

_Well, duh,_ I replied, deadpan.

It had worked though; he relaxed slightly and sank back into the chair next to my hospital bed.

_So, uh, you seriously want to carry on with this thing between us?_

'I think it would be best if we started over,' he responded in all sincerity.

_OK,_ I told him simply. _Do you… would you mind if I adopted Cameron? I'm not suggesting that we adopt her together or anything – that's a recipe for disaster if ever I knew one._

'You're asking,' he translated, 'if I will mind the baggage that you are attaching yourself to on a foolish and idiotic whim?'

_Yes, _I said. I might have argued with him about the fact that Cameron wasn't just 'baggage', as he put it, and that my adopting her was a perfectly logical solution to come to, not foolish or idiotic. Much.

'No. I don't mind. Although I still think it's stupid of you.'

_I'm thirty-eight, Sev. If I'd lost this baby ten, even five years ago it wouldn't have bothered me as much. But it is a reminder that I'm not getting any younger and… you need to know that if we start up a proper relationship, I'm not just looking for a couple of months. I'm looking for forever. So I am going to get to know you and if I fall for you I will fight tooth and nail to keep you._

I didn't think was much out of place in my little speech; I was only telling him the truth of my feelings, after all. From where I stood it seemed he was half in love with me already and I could see myself easily reciprocating those feelings given a little time. Nonetheless Severus turned a charming shade of pink that I found most endearing. Maybe – just maybe – something good would come out of this fiasco.

'I lost a child as much as you did,' he reminded me softly. 'And I'm 45. I am not getting any younger either.'

I decided not to point out that men could reproduce for just a tad longer than women could. Instead I just smiled at him.

Then he leant forwards across the bed and, hesitantly, gently, cupped my face in his hands. He looked at me with those dark orbs of his, the question clear as if he'd spoken it. I blinked slowly and the smile left my lips, though it remained in my eyes. And he pressed his lips to mine in a gentle kiss that was firm and gentle and promised hundreds more kisses to come.

It was only brief before he drew back and kissed me on my forehead, then hugging me to him. In a way the length made it even more real. Both he and I understood each other. Though we had acted like it before, neither of us was a hormonal teenager anymore and we both wanted a relationship that might, maybe, last forever. It was comforting to know that whilst we could have passion between us we could also form something slow and peaceful and longer lasting.

Unfortunately for us, Sev in particular, my mother's disastrous sense of timing had been perfected over her many years of grand entrances that caused as much discomfort possible for those involved.

'Danielle!' she cried as she entered, making me wince. Only she could call me by full name without my threatening to hex her. My mother, when you said something out of line, was one scary woman. 'And who's this young man?' she asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

'Ma'am,' Severus said, standing.

_Mum, this is– _I attempted to tell her telepathically.

'Get out of my head right this instant, young lady!' Mum warned, eyes complete slits now. 'You were given a voice for a reason!'

_But, Mum, I–_

'No!' she shrieked. 'Your voice, young lady, God gave you vocal chords just like every other human.'

'Mrs Prince,' Severus said, moving both my and Mum's attention to him. I noticed with a gulp that his expression had taken on that furiously icy look he usually only reserved for students or – on the off chance I came hurtling into his classroom publicly humiliating him in front of his students – me. 'If you would only listen to your daughter for a second–'

'Now listen here, Mister,' Mum said. I wondered what I wanted most right now. Popcorn or an army barricade to hide behind. 'Danielle can answer for herself, using her tongue and I will not have you making excuses for her.'

'Madame.' Ooh. Severus was scary when he said that in that tone. 'If you would have informed yourself of –'

And then they both started talking at once. I don't know exactly what each of them said, but their voices became progressively louder and angrier until I couldn't stand it any longer.

_Mum! Severus! Shut. The. Fuck. Up!_

It seemed like a good idea at the time. But then they both turned on me. My only sensible or vaguely coherent thought that crossed my mind when I received death glares from both my mother and – my what? Boyfriend? Lover? Date? – Severus was: Oh _crap_.

* * *

Written: Unknown  
Chances of continuation: nil

Feel free to use this piece of writing for whatever the hell you want, so long as you credit me (either this account or my main one - Calistabelle) and let me know what you do with it.

Much love,  
Cal


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